VER% 
<P 


-nt  imu/rnr.. 


1  n  n  >  n\/  x» 


JOHN  LOCKE 
1632-1704 

From  an  Engraving  by  F.  Morellan  de  la  Cave,  after  G.  Kneller 


LOCKE'S  ESSAY 


CONCERNING 


HUMAN   UNDERSTANDING 


BOOKS  II  AND  IV 

(WITH  OMISSIONS) 


SELECTED   BY 

MARY  WHITON  CALKINS 


THIRD  EDITION 
REVISED  AND  ENLARGED 


"TO  KNOW  HOW  TO  SAY  WHAT  OTHER  PEOPLE  ONLY 
THINK   IS   WHAT    MAKES   MEN    POETS     AND     SAGES" 


CHICAGO     :::     LONDON 
THE    OPEN     COURT    PUBLISHING    COMPANY 

1917 


COPYRIGHT  BY 

THE  OPEN  COURT  PUBLISHING  CO. 

1905 


PRINTED   IN   THE   UNITED   STATES   OF   AMERICA 


STACK  ANNEX 


PREFACE. 

THIS  condensation  of  Locke's  "Essay  Concerning 
Human  Understanding"  is  printed  with  a  single  prac- 
tical end  in  view  :  to  present  in  inexpensive  form  the 
essentials  of  Locke's  teaching  in  metaphysics  and  in 
psychology.  Book  I.,  except  the  first,  introductory 
chapter,  is  omitted,  because  the  innate-idea  controversy 
is  a  dead  issue;  Book  III.  is  omitted  because  it  deals 
with  considerations  of  logic  and  of  language.  The 
omissions  from  Books  II.  and  IV.  have  been  made 
with  regret  but,  it  is  hoped,  with  judgment. 

The  body  of  the  text  has  been  compared,  word  for 
word,  with  that  of  Eraser's  edition  ;  but  in  the  para- 
graph headings,  orthography,  punctuation  and  use  of 
italics,  another  edition  (the  thirty-fifth)  has  been  fol- 
lowed. The  title-page  is  that  of  the  second  edition. 
No  bibliographical  or  historical  notes  have  been  added, 
for  Eraser's  edition  makes  it  unnecessary  and  imper- 
tinent for  any  other  person  to  repeat  his  work. 

Brackets,  adopted  from  the  Eraser  text,  indicate 
deviations,  from  the  first  edition  of  the  "Essay,"  in  the 
three  other  editions  published  in  Locke's  lifetime  and 
in  the  French  translation  made  by  Coste,  but  super- 
vised by  Locke  himself.  The  most  important  of  these 
changes  are  the  addition  of  chapter  xxvu.  to  Book  II., 
and  the  alteration  of  chapters  vm.  and  xxi.  The 
changes  in  chapter  vm.  were  first  made  in  the  fourth 


iv  PREFACE. 

edition ;  the  most  important  changes  in  chapter  xxi. — 
in  particular  the  substitution  of  sections  28-62  for  the 
original  sections,  28-38,  were  made  in  the  2d  edition.* 

This  preface  offers  an  opportunity  to  urge  on  stu- 
dents of  the  "Essay"  the  advantages  of  a  further 
reading  of  Locke.  His  treatises  on  social  and  political 
subjects,  however  antiquated  the  precise  problems 
under  discussion,  contain  the  germs  of  important  the- 
ories later  formulated  by  other  writers ;  his  little  work 
on  education  has  a  permanent  value  both  for  its  con- 
stant insistence  on  the  need  of  regarding  the  individ- 
uality of  child  or  pupil,  and  for  specific  counsels  of 
many  sorts;  his  letters,  finally,  especially  those  to  his 
young  friend  and  "obstinate  lover,"  Anthony  Collins, 
form  an  invaluable  part  of  the  literature  of  friendship. 

For  permission  to  reproduce  the  title-page  of  a 
copy  of  the  second  edition  of  the  "Essay,"  the  editor 

is  indebted  to  the  Harvard  University  library. 
*       *       * 

The  second  edition  of  this  reprint  of  Locke's  ''Es- 
say" is  enriched  by  the  English  translation  of  Leclerc's 
"Life  and  Character  of  Mr.  John  Locke" — the  little 
work  which  lies  at  the  basis  of  most  of  the  biographies 
of  Locke,  and  which  is  not  now  elsewhere  readily 
accessible.  This  "Life"  is  reprinted  from  the  original 
English  edition  and  the  spelling,  capitals,  and  italics 
are  faithfully  followed,  save  that  the  corrections  indi- 
cated by  the  translator  in  his  list  of  Errata  have  been 
incorporated  in  the  text,  and  three  obvious  misprints 
have  been  corrected  because  they  affect  the  sense. 

For  the  preparation  of  the  Index,  also  added  to  this 
edition,  the  editor  is  indebted  to  Miss  Helen  G.  Hood, 
student  in  philosophy  at  Wellesley  College. 

*  Cf.  Eraser's  edition.  I.  p.  330    Note,  and  pp.  373-379. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS  AND  OF  CHAPTER 
HEADINGS. 


PAGE 

THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  MR.  JOHN  LOCKE.      By  Le 

Clerc  ;  translated  by  T.  F.  P.  Gent ix 

CHRONOLOGICAL    LIST    OF    THE    WRITINGS    OF     LOCKE 

(Adapted  from  Fraser's  "  Locke.") Iv 

FACSIMILE  OF  TITLE-PAGE  OF  SECOND  EDITION    ....  i 

EPISTLE  DEDICATORY 3 

THE  EPISTLE  TO  THE  READER 7 


BOOK  I.     OF  INNATE  NOTIONS. 

CHAP. 

I. —  Introduction 17 

II. —  No  Innate  Principles  in  the  Mind.*     .     .     . 

III. —  No  Innate  Practical  Principles.*     .... 

IV. —  Other    Considerations    Concerning    Innate     . 

Principles,   Both   Speculative  and   Practical.* 

BOOK  II.    OF  IDEAS. 

I. —  Of  Ideas  in  General,  and  Their  Original     .  25 

II.— Of  Simple  Ideas 33 

III.— Of  Ideas  of  One  Sense 36 

IV.— Of   Solidity 38 

V. —  Of  Simple  Ideas  of  Divers  Senses.     ...  43 

VI. —  Of    Simple    Ideas    of   Reflection 44 

VII. —  Of    Simple    Ideas    of    Both    Sensation    and 

Reflection 45 

VIII. —  Some  Farther  Considerations  Concerning  Our 

Simple  Ideas 50 


These  chapters  are  not  included  in  this  edition  of  the  Essay. 
V 


vi  CONTENTS. 

CHAP.  PAGE 

IX.— Of  Perception 64 

X.— Of  Retention 72 

XI. —  Of  Discerning,  and  Other  Operations  of  the 

Mind 80 

XII. —  Of  Complex   Ideas 90 

XIII. —  Of  Simple  Modes,  and  First,  of  the  Simple 

Modes    of    Space 95 

XIV. —  Of  Duration  and  Its   Simple   Modes.*     .     . 
XV. —  Of  Duration  and  Expansion,  Considered  To- 
gether.*      

XVI.— Of  Number.* 

XVII.— Of  Infinity 95 

XVIIL— Of   Other   Simple   Modes 114 

XIX.— Of   the   Modes   of   Thinking 118 

XX. —  Of  Modes  of  Pleasure  and  Pain 121 

XXI.— Of  Power 127 

XXIL— Of   Mixed   Modes.* 

XXIII. —  Of  Our  Complex  Ideas  of  Substances.     .     .     193 
XXIV. —  Of  Collective  Ideas  of  Substances.     .     .     .     223 

XXV.— Of  Relation 225 

XXVI.—  Of  Cause  and  Effect  and  Other  Relations.     .     232 

XXVII.— Of  Identity  and  Diversity 237 

XXVIIL— Of    Other    Relations.* 

XXIX. —  Of  Clear  and  Obscure,  Distinct  and  Confused 

Ideas.* 

XXX.— Of  Real  and  Fantastical  Ideas.*     .... 
XXXI. —  Of  Adequate  and  Inadequate  Ideas.*    .     .     . 

XXXII.—  Of  True  and  False  Ideas  * 

XXXIII.— Of  the  Association  of  Ideas.* 


BOOK  III.  OF  WORDS* 

I. —  Of  Words  or  Language  in  General.     . 
II. —  Of   the    Signification    of    Words     . 

III.— Of  General  Terms 

IV. —  Of  the  Names  of  Simple  Ideas.     . 


These  chapters  are  not  included  in  this  edition  of  the  Essay. 


CONTENTS.  vii 

CHAP.  PACE 

V. —  Of  the  Names  of  Mixed  Modes  and  Relations. 

VI. —  Of  the  Names  of  Substances 

VII.— Of  Particles 

VIII. —  Of  Abstract  and  Concrete  Terms 

IX. —  Of  the   Imperfection   of   Words 

X.— Of  the   Abuse   of   Words 

XL — Of  the  Remedies  of  the  Foregoing  Imperfec- 
tions and  Abuses 

BOOK  IV.    OF  KNOWLEDGE  AND  OPINION. 

I. —  Of  Knowledge  in  General 267 

II. —  Of  the  Degrees  of  Our  Knowledge.  .  .  .  274 
III.— Of  the  Extent  of  Human  Knowledge.  .  .  284 
IV. —  Of  the  Reality  of  Human  Knowledge.  .  .  298 

V. —  Of  Truth  in  General.* 

VI. —  Of  Universal  Propositions,  Their  Truth  and 

Certainty.* 

VII.—  Of  Maxims.* 

VIII.—  Of  Trifling  Propositions* 

IX. —  Of  Our  Threefold  Knowledge  of  Existence.    314 
X. —  Of     Our  Knowledge  of  the  Existence  of  a 

God 315 

XL — Of  Our    Knowledge    of    the    Existence    of 

Other  Things 330 

XII. —  Of  the  Improvement  of  Our  Knowledge.*     . 
XIII. —  Some  Farther  Considerations  Concerning  Our 

Knowledge.* 

XIV.- Of  Judgment.* ' 

XV.— Of  Probability.* . 

XVL— Of  the  Degrees  of  Assent* 

XVIL— Of  Reason* 

XVIIL— Of  Faith    and    Reason,    and    Their    Distinct 

Provinces.* 

XIX.— Of  Enthusiasm* 

XX. —  Of  Wrong  Assent,  or  Error.* 

XXI. —  Of  the  Division  of  the  Sciences.*    .... 
INDEX 343 

*  These  chapters  are  not  included  in  this  edition  of  the  Essay. 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  MR.  JOHN 
LOCKE,* 

AUTHOR  OF  THE  ESSAY  CONCERNING  HUMANE 
UNDERSTANDING. 

Written  in  French,  by  Mr.  Le  Clerc,     And  done 
into  English,  by  T.  F.  P.  Gent. 

Mr.  John  Locke  was  the  son  of  Mr.  John  Locke  of 
Pensford,  in  Somersetshire,  in  the  West  of  England: 
The  Family  had  its  rise  at  a  Place  call'd  Channon 
Court,  in  Dorsetshire. 

He  was  born  at  Wrington*  (alias  Wrinton}  and 
according  to  the  Parish-Register,  was  Baptiz'd,  the 
29th  of  August  1632.  his  Father  was  Heir  to  a  much 
greater  Estate,  then  he  left  behind  him ;  and  was  a 
Captain  in  the  Parliaments  Army,  in  the  Civil  Wars 
under  Charles  the  First:  And  it  is  very  probable, 
that  at  that  Time  by  the  misfortunes  of  the  War,  he 
lost  some  Part  of  his  Estate;  for  his  Son  us'd  to 
speak  of  him,  as  a  wise  and  sober  Man ;  so  that  I 
can't  think  he  either  lost  it  by  his  Folly,  or  squander'd 
it  away  by  his  Extravagance.  Mr.  Locke  never  men- 
tion'd  his  Parents,  but  with  a  great  deal  of  Respect 
and  Tenderness.  Tho'  they  were  young  enough  when 
they  Married,  yet  they  had  but  two  Children,  of  which 
he  was  the  Eldest.  The  other,  who  was  also  a  Son, 
died  of  a  Phthisick  above  40  Years  ago. 

Mr.  Lock's  Father  took  great  Care  in  his  Educa- 

*  7  or  8  Miles  South  of  Bristol. 


x          THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

tion,  and  carried  himself  towards  him  in  such  a  man- 
ner, as  his  Son  hath  often  commended.  He  was  se- 
vere to  him,  while  he  was  a  Child,  and  kept  him  at 
a  very  great  Distance ;  but  as  he  grew  up,  he  was 
more  free  and  familiar  with  him ;  and  when  he  was 
come  to  Years  of  Discretion,  they  liv'd  together  rather 
as  Friends,  than  as  two  Persons,  one  of  which  might 
justly  claim  Respect  from  the  other ;  insomuch  that 
(as  Mr.  Locke  himself  has  said)  his  Father  excus'd 
himself  to  him  for  having  beaten  him  once  in  his 
Childhood;  rather  in  Anger,  then  because  he  deserv'd 
it. 

Mr.  Locke  began  his  Studies  in  Westminster 
School,  where  he  continu'd  to  the  Year  1651.  from 
whence  he  was  sent  to  Christ-Church  Colledge  in 
Oxford,  of  which  he  was  elected  Fellow.  Mr.  Tyrell, 
Grandson  of  the  famous  Archbishop  Usher,  sufficiently 
known  by  his  Works,  remembers  that  Mr.  Locke  was 
then  lookt  on  as  the  most  ingenious  young  Man  in 
the  Colledge. 

But  altho'  Mr.  Locke  had  gain'd  such  a  Reputation 
in  the  University,  he  has  been  often  heard  to  say, 
of  the  first  Years  of  his  being  there,  that  he  found 
so  little  Satisfaction,  in  the  Method  that  was  prescrib'd 
them  for  their  Study's,  that  he  has  wish'd  his  Father 
had  never  sent  him  to  Oxford,  when  he  found  that 
what  he  had  learnt  there,  was  of  little  use  to  him, 
to  enlighten  and  enlarge  his  Mind,  and  to  make  him 
more  exact  in  his  Reasonings ;  he  fancied  it  was  be- 
cause his  genius  was  not  suited  to  those  Study's.  I 
my  self  have  heard  him  complain  of  the  Method  he 
took  in  his  Study's  at  first,  in  a  Discourse  which  I 
had  with  him  one  Day  on  that  Subject;  and  when  I 
told  him  that  I  had  a  Cartesian  Professour  for  mv 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE.        xi 

Tutor,  a  Man  of  a  clear  Head,  he  said,  he  was  not  so 
happy;  (tho'  'tis  well  known  he  was  no  Cartesian) 
and  that  he  lost  a  great  deal  of  Time,  when  he  first 
applied  himself  to  Study,  because  the  only  Philosophy 
then  known  at  Oxford  was  the  Peripatetick,  perplex'd 
with  obscure  Terms  and  stuff' d  with  useless  Questions. 
Being  thus  discourag'd  by  the  Method  of  studying 
that  was  then  in  Vogue,  he  diverted  himself  by  writing 
to  some  Gentlemen,  with  whom  he  chose  to  hold  Cor- 
respondence for  the  sake  of  their  good  Humour,  their 
pleasant  and  agreeable  Temper,  rather  than  on  the 
Account  of  their  Learning,  and  he  confess'd  that  he 
spent  some  Years  in  this  manner.  It  is  not  probable, 
that  Mr.  Locke  wrote  then  as  well  as  he  did  after- 
wards, when  he  knew  more  of  the  World,  but  their 
Letters  would  without  doubt  have  been  very  enter- 
taining to  all,  had  they  been  preserv'd ;  and  since  he 
has  been  engag'd  in  publick  Business,  some  Persons 
in  England  of  a  very  good  Judgment,  have  thought 
that  in  Letters  of  this  Nature,  for  a  fine,  delicate  turn, 
he  was  not  inferiour  to  Voiture ;  tho'  it  must  be  con- 
fess'd, of  his  English  it  is  not  so  pure,  or  so  much 
studied  as  Voiture's  French.  In  his  two  last  Letters 
of  Toleration,  in  his  Defences  of  the  reasonableness 
of  Christianity,  and  in  his  Answers  to  the  Learned 
Dr.  Stillingneet  late  Lord  Bishop  of  Worcester,  we 
may  see  some  Passages  that  are  a  Proof  of  this.  In 
those  Places  where  his  Matter  allow'd  him  to  speak 
Ironically,  or  to  use  a  little  Raillery,  he  did  it  with  so 
much  Wit  as  gave  Life  and  Beauty  to  his  Discourse, 
and  at  the  same  time  kept  up  that  grave  and  serious 
Character,  which  runs  throughout  those  Pieces,  and 
never  failed  in  that  Respect,  which  was  due  to  the 
Bishop  of  Worcester. 


xii         THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

Mr.  Locke  did  not  acquire  this  great  Reputation 
he  had  at  Oxford  (as  Mr.  Tyrell  says)  by  his  per- 
formances in  the  publick  Disputations,  for  he  was  ever 
averse  to  these,  and  always  look'd  upon  them  as  no 
better  than  wrangling,  and  that  they  served  only  for 
a  vain  Ostentation  of  a  Man's  Parts,  and  not  in  the 
least  for  the  discovery  of  Truth,  and  advancement  of 
Knowledge. 

The  Works  of  Des  Cartes  were  the  first  Books 
that  brought  Mr.  Locke  (as  he  himself  told  me)  to 
relish  the  Study  of  Philosophy.  For  tho'  he  did  not 
Assent  to  the  Truth  of  all  his  Notions,  he  found  that 
he  wrote  with  great  clearness,  which  made  him  think, 
that  it  was  the  fault  of  the  Authors,  rather  than  his 
own,  that  he  had  not  understood  some  other  Philo- 
sophical Books. 

And  thus  beginning  afresh  to  Study,  and  more  earn- 
estly than  he  did  before,  he  applied  himself  particu- 
larly to  Medicine,  tho'  this  never  turn'd  to  his  own 
Profit,  because  he  did  not  find  that  he  had  a  Constitu- 
tion of  Body  strong  enough  to  bear  those  Fatigues, 
to  which  they  are  necessarily  exposed,  who  would 
have  any  considerable  Practice.  But  tho'  he  never 
practis'd  Physick,  he  was  in  great  esteem,  with  the 
most  able  Physicians  of  his  Time:  We  have  a  clear 
Proof  of  this  in  the  Dedication  of  an  excellent  Book, 
De  morbis  acutis,  put  out  in  the  Year  1675.  by  the 
famous  Dr.  Thomas  Sydenham,  where  he  speaks  to 
this  Purpose ;  besides  you  know,  that  my  Method  hath 
been  approv'd  by  one,  who  hath  examin'd  it  thor- 
oughly, and  who  is  our  common  Friend,  I  mean,  Mr. 
John  Locke,  who  whether  we  respect  his  Wit,  or  his 
piercing  and  exact  Judgment,  or  whether  we  look 
to  his  prudent  and  regular  Behaviour,  there  is  no 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE,      xiii 

Person  in  our  Age  that  excels  him,  and  there  are 
but  few  that  are  his  equals.  This  was  the  Opinion 
of  one  of  the  greatest  Practitioners  in  Physick,  and 
one  of  the  honestest  Men,  that  London  had  in  the 
last  Age.  Therefore  I  shall  give  you  his  own  Terms, 
because  they  are  much  more  expressive  in  Latine: 
Nosti  prccterea  quern  huic  mea?  methodo  suffragantem 
habeam,qid  earn  intimius per  omnia  perspexerat,utrique 
nostrum  conjunctissimum,  Dominum  Joannem  Locke ; 
quo  quidem  viro,  sive  ingenio  judicioque  acri  &  sub- 
acto,  sire  etiam  antiquis,  hoc  est,  optimis  moribus,  zn.v 
Superiorem  quenquam,  inter  eos  qui  nunc  sunt  homi- 
nes, repertum  iri  confido,  paucissimos  certe  pares. 
After  the  Preface  of  this  Book  there  are  some  Elegiack 
Verses  of  Mr.  Lock's  which  are  indeed  full  of  Wit 
and  Fancy,  but  the  stile  of  them  is  not  -altogether 
exact  or  Poetical.  He  had  too  little  esteem  for  the 
Poets  to  throw  away  much  Time  in  reading  them, 
and  to  take  the  pains  to  imitate  them.  He  sign'd 
those  Verses  in  this  manner,  /.  Locke,  A.  M.  Ex  Aede 
Christi,  Oxon.  he  contented  himself  with  the  Title 
of  Master  of  Arts,  without  taking  the  Degree  of  a 
Doctor  of  Physick,  tho'  those  that  did  not  know  him 
usually  call'd  him  Doctor  Locke.  This  he  told  me, 
when  I  dedicated  to  him  one  Part  of  my  Philosophy 
in  1692. 

In  1664.  He  left  England,  and  went  for  Germany 
as  Secretary  to  Sir  William  Swan,  who  was  Envoy 
of  the  King  of  England  to  the  Elector  of  Brandebonrg, 
and  some  other  German  Princes.  In  less  than  a  Year 
he  return'd,  and  went  to  Study  at  the  University  of 
Oxford,  as  he  formerly  did ;  and  among  other  things, 
he  apply'd  himself  to  Natural  Phylosophy,  as  is  evi- 
dent from  the  Journal,  which  he  kept  of  the  Changes 


xiv        THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

of  the  Air  from  24th  of  June  1666.  to  the  28th  of 
March  1667.  For  the  regular  Observation  of  which 
he  us'd  a  Barometer,  Thermometer  and  Hygroscope. 
The  Journal  may  be  seen  in  the  General  History  of  the 
Air,  by  Mr.  Boyle,  Publish 'd  at  London  in  1692. 

While  he  was  at  Oxford  in  1666.  he  came  ac- 
quainted with  the  Lord  Ashley,  who  was  afterwards 
Earl  of  Shaftsbury,  and  Lord  High  Chancellour  of 
England,  his  Lordship  had  been  for  a  considerable 
Time  indispos'd  by  a  fall,  whereby  his  Chest  was  so 
much  bruised,  that  it  occasion'd  the  gathering  of  an 
Imposthume,  as  appear'd  by  a  swelling  under  his 
Stomach,  he  had  been  advis'd  for  this  to  drink  the 
Mineral  Waters  of  Astrop,  and  wrrote  to  Mr.  Thomas 
a  Physician  of  Oxford,  to  send  for  some  to  Oxford 
against  his  arrival.  But  Mr.  Thomas  being  oblig'd 
at  that  time  to  go  out  of  Town,  left  his  Commission 
in  Charge  with  his  Friend  Mr.  Locke,  and  the  Day 
after  his  Lordships  arrival,  the  Waters  not  being  ready 
by  neglect  of  the  Person  imploy'd  to  fetch  them,  Mr. 
Locke  was  oblig'd  to  go  to  his  Lordships  Lodging  to 
excuse  himself,  and  was  introduc'd  by  Mr.  Bennet  who 
came  in  the  same  Coach  with  my  Lord.  His  Lord- 
ship receiv'd  him  very  civilly,  according  to  his  usual 
manner,  and  was  very  well  satisfied  with  his  excuses. 
When  he  was  about  to  take  his  Leave  of  him,  my 
Lord  who  w^as  extremely  well-pleas'd  with  his  Con- 
versation, would  needs  make  him  stay  Supper,  and 
as  his  Lordship  was  taken  with  Mr.  Lock's  Discourse, 
so  Mr.  Locke  was  charm'd  with  my  Lord  Ashley, 
whose  Wit  and  Civility  gave  him  a  distinguishing 
Character  among  those  of  his  own  Rank. 

He  was  one  that  had  a  quick  and  sharp  Wit,  an 
accurate  and  solid  Judgment,  a  retentive  Memory, 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE.       xv 

noble  and  generous  Sentiments,  and  with  all  this  a 
gay  and  pleasant  Temper,  which  he  retain'd  in  the 
midst  of  the  greatest  Troubles,  he  had  read  much 
and  seen  more  of  the  World.  In  a  little  time  he  got 
a  great  deal  of  Knowledge  and  Experience,  and  be- 
came the  best  Statesman  in  England,  at  an  Age  when 
others  scarce  begin  to  understand  or  enquire  after 
publick  Concerns.  The  Imployments  he  had  when 
King  Charles  the  Second  made  use  of  his  Service  took 
him  off  from  his  Studies.  But  he  was  of  so  quick  an 
Apprehension,  that  by  once  reading  a  Book,  tho'  in 
haste,  he  could  see  its  faults  and  excellencies,  some- 
times better,  than  those  who  perus'd  it  at  their  Leisure ; 
besides  he  was  a  Man  of  a  free  and  easy  Carriage,  an 
Enemy  to  Complements,  and  not  in  the  least  Cere- 
monious, so  that  one  might  Converse  with  him  with- 
out constraint,  and  use  all  desirable  Freedom.  He 
carried  himself  familiarly  to  all  Men,  and  yet  never 
did  anything  unworthy  or  below  his  Character.  He 
could  never  suffer  what  had  the  least  appearance  of 
Slavery  either  in  himself,  or  in  his  Inferiours. 

So  that  Mr.  Locke  did  with  pleasure  all  his  Life 
after,  reflect  on  the  Satisfaction  that  he  receiv'd  from 
his  Conversation,  and  when  ever  he  prais'd  him,  he 
did  it  not  only  with  Respect,  but  even  with  Admira- 
tion ;  as  those  who  knew  the  Penetration  and  Sincerity 
of  Mr.  Locke,  will  from  hence  form  to  themselves  a 
high  Idea  of  my  Lord  Ashley,  so  those  who  were 
acquainted  with  my  Lord  Ashley,  can't  but  think  that 
Mr.  Locke  was  a  Man  of  uncommon  genius,  when  they 
consider  the  value  he  had  for  him. 

After  all  this,  'tis  no  great  wonder  that  between 
two  such  Persons  as  these,  there  easily  arose  an  in- 
violable Friendship.  But  to  continue  our  History; 


xvi        THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

his  Lordship  engag'd  Mr.  Locke  to  Dine  with  him 
the  next  day,  and  to  drink  the  Waters  (as  he  himself 
had  partly  design'd)  that  he  might  enjoy  the  more 
of  his  Company.  Leaving  Oxford  to  go  to  Sunning- 
Hill,  where  he  drank  the  Waters,  he  made  Mr.  Locke 
promise  to  go  thither  too*  as  he  did  in  the  Summer  of 
the  Year  1667.  and  when  His  Lordship  afterwards 
went  to  London,  he  oblig'd  him  to  promise  that  he 
would  take  up  his  Lodgings  for  the  future  at  his 
House.  Mr.  Locke  went  thither,  and  tho'  he  never 
practis'd  Physick  His  Lordship  was  entirely  guided 
by  his  Advice  in  opening  the  Imposthume  he  had  in 
his  Breast  which  sav'd  his  Life,  though  it  never  could 
be  clos'd  again. 

After  this  Cure  His  Lordship  had  so  great  an  Es- 
teem for  Mr.  Locke,  that  although  he  had  experienced 
his  Skill  in  Physick,  he  ever  after  regarded  it  as  the 
least  of  his  Accomplishments.  He  advis'd  him  to  turn 
his  thoughts  another  way,  and  would  not  suffer  him 
to  practice  Physick  out  of  the  house  to  any  but  his 
particular  Friends.  He  would  have  had  him  rather 
apply  himself  to  the  study  of  those  Matters,  that  be- 
long'd  to  the  Church  and  State,  and  which  might  have 
some  relation  to  the  business  of  a  Minister  of  State: 
And  Mr.  Locke  succeeded  so  well  in  these  Studies 
that  His  Lordship  began  to  consult  him  on  all  occa- 
sions of  that  Nature.  He  not  only  took  him  into  his 
Library  and  his  Closet,  but  brought  him  into  the  Com- 
pany of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  my  Lord  Halifax 
and  other  Nobles,  who  were  Men  of  Wit  and  Learn- 
ing, and  were  pleas'd  as  much  with  his  Conversation 
as  my  Lord  Ashley,  for  though  Mr.  Locke  had  a  se- 

*  As  appears  by  the  Journal,  publish'd  by  Mr.  Boyle  before  men- 
tion'd. 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE,     xvii 

rious  Air  and  always  spoke  to  these  Lords  in  a  modest 
and  respectful  manner ;  yet  there  was  an  agreeable 
mixture  of  Wit  in  his  Conversation. 

The  freedom  which  he  us'd  with  Persons  of  this 
Rank  had  somewhat  which  I  can't  express,  that  agreed 
very  well  with  his  Character.  One  day  three  or  four 
of  these  Lords  being  met  together  at  my  Lord  Ash- 
ley's, rather  for  their  Diversion  than  Business,  after 
the  usual  Complements  were  over,  the  Cards  were 
brought  when  little  or  no  Discourse  had  passed  be- 
tween them.  Mr.  Locke  took  notice  of  the  Game  for 
some  time,  and  then  taking  out  his  Pocket-book,  he 
set  himself  to  write  somewhat  with  very  great  Serious- 
ness, one  of  the  Lords  having  observ'd  it  asks  him 
what  it  was  that  he  was  writing.  My  Lord,  says  he, 
I  endeavour  to  get  as  much  as  I  can  in  your  good 
Company,  and  having  waited  with  impatience  the 
Honour  of  being  present  at  a  Meeting  of  the  wisest 
and  most  ingenious  men  of  the  Age,  and  enjoying  at 
length  this  Happiness ;  I  thought  it  was  best  to  write 
your  Conversation,  and  I  have  accordingly  set  down 
the  substance  of  what  has  been  said  within  this  hour 
or  two.  There  was  no  need  for  Mr.  Locke  to  read 
much  of  his  Dialogue,  these  noble  Lords  perceiv'd 
the  banter,  and  diverted  themselves  a  while  with  im- 
proving the  jest ;  they  left  their  play  and  enter 'd  into 
Conversation  more  agreeable  to  their  Character  and 
so  spent  the  rest  of  the  day. 

In  1668.  The  Earl  and  Countess  of  Northumber- 
land having  resolv'd  to  travel  into  France  they  desir'd 
Mr.  Locke  to  make  one  of  their  Company ;  He  readily 
comply 'd  with  them  and  stayed  in  France  with  my 
Lady  Countess  whilst  the  Earl  went  to  Rome.  This 
noble  Lord  fell  sick  in  the  way  and  died,  which 


xviii      THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

oblig'd  his  Lady  to  return  sooner  to  England  than 
they  had  design'd  at  first.  The  Journey  was  without 
doubt  very  pleasant  to  Mr.  Locke,  for  this  Lady  was 
every  ways  accomplish'd,  she  spar'd  for  no  Expences, 
and  wherever  she  came,  she  had  very  great  Honours 
paid  her. 

Mr.  Locke  at  his  return  into  England  Lodg'd,  as 
before,  at  my  Lord  Ashley's,  who  was  Chancellour  of 
the  Exchequer.  However,  he  held  his  Place  in  the 
Colledge  of  Christ-Church  at  Oxford*  where  he  some- 
times resided.  Whilst  he  was  at  my  Lord  Ashley's, 
His  Lordship  intrusted  him  with  the  remaining  part 
of  the  Education  of  his  only  Son,  who  was  then  but 
about  Fifteen  or  sixteen  years  old,  which  Charge  he 
carefully  perform'd.  This  young  Lord  being  of  a 
very  weakly  Constitution,  his  Father  thought  to  marry 
him  betimes  least  the  Family  should  be  extinct  by  his 
Death.  He  was  too  young,  and  had  too  little  Ex- 
perience to  choose  a  Wife  for  himself;  and  my  Lord 
Ashley  not  having  time  to  make  choice  of  a  suitable 
Person  for  him,  desir'd  that  Mr.  Locke  would  under- 
take it.  This  was  no  easie  Province,  for  though  His 
Lordship  did  not  insist  upon  a  great  Fortune  for  his 
Son,  yet  he  would  have  him  marry  a  Lady  of  a  good 
Family,  a  sweet  Temper,  a  fine  Complexion,  and  above 
all  one  that  had  a  good  Education,  and  whose  Car- 
riage was  as  different  as  possible  from  the  Behaviour 
of  the  Court  and  City  Ladies.  However  Mr.  Locke 
took  upon  him  such  a  nice  Business  ay  this,  and  very 
happily  acquitted  himself  of  it,  for  from  this  Mar- 
riage sprung  the  present  Earl  of  Shaftsbury  with  six 
other  Children  all  very  healthful,  though  his  Father 

*  See   the    aforesaid   Journal,    he   kept   the   Changes   of   the   Air   at 
Oxford,  p.   116,  &  202. 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE.      xix 

was  but  weak,  and  died  some  years  ago.  As  Mr. 
Locke  had  the  Care  of  great  part  of  the  Education 
of  this  Lord,  so  he  was  intrusted  with  his  eldest  Son's 
whom  we  had  the  Honour  of  seeing  here  in  Holland, 
and  whose  good  Sence,  Judgment,  Fancy,  Learning, 
sweet  and  obliging  Carriage,  free  from  all  formal  and 
affected  Ceremonies,  with  a  natural  and  easie  Elo- 
quence, plainly  shew  us  that  he  was  Educated  by  no 
less  excellent  a  Person  than  Mr.  Locke,  of  which  his 
Lordship  hath  testified  a  grateful  Sense  on  all  occa- 
sions, and  always  speaks  of  him  with  Signs  of  a 
more  than  ordinary  esteem. 

In  the  Year  1670,  and  1671.  Mr.  Locke  began  his 
Essay  concerning  Humane  Understanding,  at  the  ear- 
nest request  of  Mr.  Tyrell,  and  Mr.  Thomas  and  some 
others  of  his  Friends,  who  met  sometimes  in  his  Cham- 
ber to  converse  together,  as  he  himself  hath  told  me. 
But  his  Business  and  Travels  hinder'd  his  finishing 
it  at  that  time.  I  don't  know  whether  it  was  not  about 
this  time  that  he  was  taken  into  the  Royal  Society  of 
London. 

In  the  Year  1672.  My  Lord  Ashley  was  created 
Earl  of  Shaftsbury,  and  Lord  High  Chancellour  of 
England,  and  gave  Mr.  Locke  the  Office  of  Secretary 
of  the  Presentation  of  Benefices;  which  he  enjoy'd 
till  the  end  of  the  Year  1673.  when  His  Lordship  re- 
turn'd  the  great  Seal  to  the  King. 

Mr.  Locke  whom  this  great  Man  made  Privy  to  his 
most  secret  Affairs  was  joyn'd  with  him  in  his  Dis- 
grace, and  afterwards  gave  his  assistance  to  some 
pieces,  which  His  Lordship  Publish'd  to  stir  up  the 
English  Nation,  to  have  a  watchful  Eye  over  the  Con- 
duct of  the  Roman  Catholicks,  and  to  oppose  the  De- 
signs of  that  Party. 


xx        THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

On  this  occasion.  I  can't  pass  over  in  silence  a  re- 
markable thing  which  was  transacted  in  the  Parlia- 
ment of  England  in  1672.  It  is  well  known,  that  at 
that  time  King  Charles  the  Second  in  Conjunction 
with  France,  made  War  on  the  United  Provinces :  But 
the  Sums  that  were  sent  him  from  France  not  being 
sufficient  to  carry  on  the  War,  He  thought  it  necessary 
to  try  what  the  Parliament  would  raise  him.  For  this 
purpose,  there  was  a  draught  prepar'd  in  the  King's 
Council  of  the  Speech,  which  the  Lord  Chancellour 
was  to  make  to  the  Parliament  to  perswade  them  to 
approve  of  the  War,  wrhich  that  Prince  had  declar'd 
against  the  Dutch.  -  But  this  appearing  too  weak  to 
the  King  and  Council,  as  not  pressing  the  Matter  home 
enough,  they  thought  fit  to  alter  it,  and  in  spight  of 
the  Lord  Chancellour's  Advice  to  insert  these  words 
of  Cato,  Delenda  est  Carthago,  intimating  that  it  was 
the  Interest  of  England  utterly  to  ruine  Holland.  This 
being  resolv'd,  the  Lord  Chancellour  must  pronounce 
the  Speech  as  it  was  prepar'd,  his  Lordship  show'd 
a  very  great  concern  at  this  to  Mr.  Locke,  and  to  an- 
other of  his  Friends,  who  hath  since  declar'd  it  in 
Writing:  However  the  Lord  Chancellour  being  look'd 
upon  as  the  Mouth  of  the  King,  and  not  speaking  in 
his  own  Name,  and  often  contrary  to  his  own  par- 
ticular Sentiments,  his  Lordship  was  oblig'd  to  get  it 
by  Heart,  and  altho'  he  spake  very  fluently,  and  had 
a  great  Presence  of  Mind,  yet  he  was  so  much  dis- 
order'd  that  he  would  have  Mr.  Locke  behind  him 
with  the  Speech  in  his  hand,  to  prompt  him  if  he 
should  be  at  a  stand.  This  made  a  great  noise  in 
Holland,  and  His  Lordship  was  thought  very  ill  of 
by  those  who  were  ignorant  of  his  own  Sentiments, 
and  the  Office  of  a  Lord  Chancellour.  But  this  noble 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE.      xxi 

Lord  in  a  little  time  after  perceiving  the  Mark  that 
the  Court  aim'd  at,  and  the  Duke  of  Buckingham 
having  shewn  him,  that  not  only  the  Duke  of  York, 
but  even  the  King  was  a  Papist,  (though  he  conceal'd 
it  by  setting  up  for  a  Wit,  and  by  appearing  on  all 
occasions  very  indifferent  as  to  Matters  of  Religion,) 
he  left  the  Court  Party,  who  in  vain  tried  all  means 
to  keep  him  in  their  Interest ;  His  Lordship  had  so 
great  an  aversion  to  Popery,  Tyranny,  and  arbitrary 
Power,  that  though  he  was  in  other  things  very  mod- 
erate, there  was  no  moving  of  him  in  these  Respects. 
This  is  well  known  to  all  those  who  had  the  Honour 
of  being  acquainted  with  him,  or  who  have  had  his 
Character  from  them. 

However,  the  famous  Sir  William  Temple  in  his 
Memoirs  speaks  very  much  to  his  disadvantage,  and 
insinuates  that  he  was  one  of  the  Authors  of  the  War 
against  the  United  Provinces  in  1672.  But  it  must 
be  consider'd,  that  he  had  a  private  Picque  against 
my  Lord  Shaftsbury,  because  when  His  Lordship 
was  Chancellour  of  the  Exchequer,  he  was  against 
the  King's  making  him  a  Present  of  Plate,  which  he 
desir'd  at  his  Return  from  his  Embassy,  according 
to  a  Custom  that  his  Lordship  thought  was  very 
prejudicial  to  the  King's  Treasury ;  and  this  is  a  suf- 
ficient Reason,  Why  we  should  give  but  little  credit 
to  what  Sir  William  Temple  says,  with  respect  to  my 
Lord  Shaftsbnry.  But  to  return  to  Mr.  Locke  in 
June  1673.  He  was  made  Secretary  to  the  Commis- 
sioners of  Trade,  which  Office  brought  him  in  Five 
hundred  Pounds  per  Annum.  But  this  Commission 
expir'd  in  December  1674. 

In  the  following  Summer*  1675.    My  Lord  Shafts- 

*  See  the  Journal  above  cited,  p.   121. 


xxii      THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

bury  thought  it  necessary  for  Mr.  Locke  to  Travel, 
because  he  was  very  much  -inclin'd  to  the  Phthisick, 
and  he  went  to  Montpellier,  where  he  staid  a  consider- 
able time.  There  it  was,  that  he  came  acquainted 
with  the  Earl  of  Pembroke,  who  was  then  call'd  Mr. 
Herbert  (the  name  of  his  Family)  because  his  eldest 
Brother  was  then  living.  He  ever  kept  up  his  Friend- 
ship with  him,  and  afterwards  Dedicated  to  him  his 
Essay  concerning  Humane  Understanding,  and  I  have 
heard  him  speak  of  this  Lord,  as  one  for  whom  he 
had  a  high  Respect.  From  Montpellier  he  went  to 
Paris,  where  he  got  acquainted  with  Monsieur  Justel, 
at  whose  House  the  Learned  generally  met,  and  there 
he  saw  Monsieur  Guenelon  the  famous  Physician  of 
Amsterdam,  who  used  to  Discourse  there  upon  Anat- 
omy with  great  Applause.  Mr.  Locke  took  down  his 
Name,  and  the  Place  of  his  abode  at  Amsterdam,  and 
his  Friendship  was  very  advantageous  to  him  some 
years  after  this,  as  we  shall  see  in  the  Consequence. 
He  likewise  entred  into  a  particular  Friendship  with 
Monsieur  Toinard,  who  show'd  him  a  Copy  of  his 
Harmonia  Evangelica,  of  which  there  were  but  Five 
or  six  compleat,  and  which  he  has  not  yet  Publish'd, 
though  he  has  been  earnestly  desir'd  to  do  it.  Mr. 
Locke  had  applyed  himself  particularly  to  the  study 
of  the  New  Testament,  and  we  shall  see  hereafter 
what  were  the  Fruits  of  his  Labours. 

The  Earl  of  Shaftsbury  being  reconcil'd  to  the  Court, 
(out  of  an  honest  Design  of  being  as  useful  as  he 
could  to  his  Country)  was  made  President  of  the 
Council  in  the  Year  1679,  which  oblig'd  him  to  desire 
Mr.  Lock's  Return  to  London.  He  accordingly  re- 
turn'd  thither;  but  not  being  wholly  recover'd,  and 
finding  himself  afflicted  with  an  Asthma  he  could  not 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE,      xxiii 

tarry  long  at  London;  the  Sea-coal  that  is  burnt  there 
being  so  very  offensive  to  him.  He  was  oblig'd  from 
time  to  time,  to  pass  some  weeks  in  the  Country,  that 
he  might  breath  in  a  pure  Air,  free  from  the  smoke  of 
the  Coals  which  is  so  troublesome  at  London,  and 
sometimes  he  went  to  Oxford,  where  he  still  kept  his 
Place  in  Christ-Church  Colledge. 

The  Earl  of  Shaftsbury  (as  I  have  said,)  having 
again  taken  his  Place  in  the  Council,  for  the  good 
of  the  English  Nation,  rather  than  to  carry  on  the 
Designs  of  the  Court,  which  aim'd  at  the  Establish- 
ment of  Popery  and  Arbitrary  Power,  fresh  Crimes 
were  soon  laid  to  his  Charge,  and  the  King  sent  him 
to  the  Tower.  But  he  was  acquitted,  in  spight  of 
the  Intreagues  of  the  Court,  and  in  December  1682. 
he  retir'd  into  Holland.  The  late  King,  who  was 
then  Prince  of  Orange;  knowing  that  His  Lordship's 
only  Crime  was,  that  he  oppos'd  the  Designs  of  the 
Court,  he  was  receiv'd  very  kindly  in  Holland,  and  he 
made  himself  a  Burgher  of  Amsterdam,  lest  the  King 
should  send  to  demand  him  of  the  States,  which  by 
a  Treaty  is  oblig'd  to  deliver  Traytors  to  the  Crown 
of  England,  if  they  are  not  made  Burghers  of  any 
Town  in  Holland,  and  England  is  oblig'd  to  do  the 
same  with  respect  to  the  States. 

Mr.  Locke  did  not  think  himself  any  longer  safe  in 
England;  for  though  they  could  not  hurt  him  accord- 
ing to  a  due  form  of  Law,  yet'twas  possible  they  might 
clap  him  up  in  Prison,  and  let  him  lie  there  some  time 
to  the  endangering  his  Health  and  Life;  so  he  fol- 
low'd  His  Lordship,  who  died  soon  after  in  Holland. 
It  is  an  Honour  to  this  Province,  and  to  the  Town  of 
Amsterdam  in  particular,  that  it  entertain'd  and  pro- 
tected so  illustrious  a  Refugee,  without  regarding 


xxiv     THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

those  former  Prejudices,  which  it  had  receiv'd  against 
him  on  the  account  of  the  Speech,  which  he  deliver'd 
as  Lord  Chancellour  to  the  Parliament  in  the  Year 
1672.  A  grateful  Sence  of  this  is  retain'd  in  the 
Family,  as  the  present  Earl  of  Shaftsbury  his  Grand- 
son hath  often  told  me.  May  this  Town  ever  remain 
a  safe  Sanctuary  to  the  Innocent,  and  by  it's  generous 
Carriage  draw  down  upon  it's  self  the  Praises  and 
Blessings  of  all  those  who  are  Lovers  of  Virtue,  not 
only  in  it's  Prosperity,  but  even  when  it  suffers  the 
sharpest  Persecutions. 

Mr.  Locke,  being  at  Amsterdam  about  the  end  of 
the  Year  1683.  renew'd  the  acquaintance,  he  began  at 
Paris  with  Monsieur  Guenelon,  and  got  acquainted 
with  his  Father-in-Law  Monsieur  Veen,  Senior  Physi- 
cian of  this  City,  and  one  of  its  most  skilful  and 
fortunate  Practitioners.  In  January  1684.  Monsieur 
Guenelon  being  to  dissect  a  Lioness,  that  died  of  the 
excessive  cold. that  Winter.  Mr.  Locke  came  thither, 
and  became  acquainted  with  several  other  Physicians. 
Here  he  met  with  Monsieur  Limbroch,  Professor  of 
Divinity  among  the  Remonstrants,  with  whom  he  con- 
tracted a  Friendship,  that  continu'd  during  the  whole 
Course  of  his  Life,  and  which  he  cultivated  after  his 
Return  into  England.  I  had  the  Honour  also  to  be 
acquainted  with  him  some  time  after,  and  have  spent 
several  hours  with  Pleasure  and  Profit  in  his  Com- 
pany ;  especially,  after  he  told  me  his  Mind  in  Philo- 
sophical Matters,  which  has  been  the  Subject  of  many 
an  hours  Conversation.  Having  his  Health  better  in 
Holland,  than  either  in  England  or  at  Montpellier: 
He  there  carried  on,  and  compleated  his  Essay  con- 
cerning Humane  Understanding,  of  which  he  shew'd 
me  several  Chapters  in  Manuscript. 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE,     xxv 

Mr.  Locke  had  not  been  a  year  out  of  England,  be- 
fore he  was  accus'd  at  Court  of  writing  several  Pam- 
phlets against  the  Government,  which  were  said  to 
come  from  Holland.  But  afterwards  were  found  to 
be  done  by  other  hands ;  for  this  Reason,  as  was  re- 
ported, the  King  sent  Order  to  Mr.  Fell,  then  Bishop 
of  Oxford,  and  Dean  of  Christ-Church  to  turn  Mr. 
Locke  out  of  his  Fellowship  in  the  Colledge.  The 
Bishop,  who  was  a  virtuous  and  Learned  man,  and  al- 
ways had  a  respect  and  kindness  for  Mr.  Locke,  re- 
ceiv'd  the  Message  with  a  great  deal  of  uneasiness, 
as  may  be  seen  by  his  Actions.  He  immediately  sends 
for  Mr.  Tyrell,  Mr.  Lock's  Friend  to  speak  with  him, 
and  was  so  convinced  of  Mr.  Lock's  Innocence,  that 
instead  of  executing  the  Order,  he  wrote  to  him  the 
8th  of  November,  to  appear  and  answer  for  himself 
the  ist  of  January  of  the  ensuing  Year.  In  the  mean 
time  he  acquaints  my  Lord  Sunderland,  then  Secretary 
of  State  with  what  he  had  done  in  these  Terms,  from 
which  we  may  learn  much  of  Mr.  Lock's  Character. 
Mr.  Locke  being  a  great  Friend  of  the  late  Earl  of 
Shaftsbury,  and  being  suspected  not  to  be  -well  af- 
fected to  the  Government,  I  have  had  my  Eye  over 
him  for  several  years,  but  he  has  always  been  so  much 
upon  his  Guard,  that  after  several  strict  Enquiries  I 
can  confidently  assure  you,  there  is  no  Person  in  our 
Colledge,  how  familiar  soever  he  has  been  with  him, 
that  has  heard  him  say  any  thing  against  the  Govern- 
ment, or  that  any  ways  concerns  it;  and  tho'  we  have 
often  designedly,  given  him  occasion  in  publick  and 
private  Discourse  to  talk  of  the  Earl  of  Shaftsbury,  by 
speaking  ill  of  him,  his  Party  and  Designs,  yet  we 
could  never  see  either  by  his  Words  or  Looks,  that  he 
thought  himself  at  all  concern 'd  in  the  Matter;  so  that 


xxvi     THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

we  believe,  there  is  not  a  Man  in  the  World  so  much 
Master  of  his  Tongue  and  Passions  as  he  is. 

This  is  the  more  to  be  admir'd ;  because  Mr.  Locke 
was  naturally  a  little  hasty.  But  perceiving  their  De- 
signs to  trepan  him  he  oblig'd  himself  to  be  silent. 
He  might  easily  see  that  to  defend  His  Lordship  be- 
fore them,  could  do  him  no  Service,  and  would  bring 
himself  into  Trouble. 

Dr.  Fell  in  what  he  wrote,  without  doubt  design'd 
to  serve  Mr.  Locke ;  but  the  King  sending  a  second 
Letter  he  was  forced  to  take  away  his  Fellowship  of 
Christ-Church  Colledge  at  Oxford. 

After  the  Death  of  Charles  the  Second  (which  was 
on  the  6th  of  February  1685.)  Mr.  Penn,  whom  Mr. 
Locke  had  known  at  the  University,  and  who  very 
generously  imploy'd  that  Interest  he  had  in  King 
James,  endeavour'd  to  procure  his  Pardon,  and  had 
certainly  obtain'd  it ;  if  Mr.  Locke  had  not  answerd, 
that  he  had  no  occasion  for  a  Pardon,  having  been 
guilty  of  no  Crime. 

In  the  Spring  of  the  Year  1685.  The  Duke  of 
Monmouth  was  in  Holland,  and  several  other  Gentle- 
men, and  Nobles  with  him,  disaffected  to  King  James's 
Government,  making  Preparations  for  his  unfortunate 
Enterprize.  King  James  being  inform'd  of  their  De- 
signs sent  to  Mr.  Skelton,  his  Envoy  at  the  Hague, 
the  1 7th  of  May,  to  demand  of  the  States  Fourscore 
and  four  Persons,  and  amongst  them  Mr.  Locke,  whom 
they  had  thus  describ'd  formerly  Secretary  to  the  Earl 
of  Shaftsbury,  altho'  he  never  had  that  Business  or 
Title  in  his  Lordships  House,  but  liv'd  there  as  a 
Friend:  His  Name  was  the  last  in  the  List,  and,  as 
I  remember,  'twas  said,  he  was  not  in  the  List  that 
came  from  England,  but  that  the  English  Consul,  that 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE,    xxvii 

was  then  in  Holland,  order'd  it  to  be  added  to  the  rest. 
However,  I  believe  one  may  rest  satisfy'd,  that  he  had 
no  Correspondence  with  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  of 
whom  he  had  not  such  high  Thoughts,  as  to  expect 
anything  from  his  Undertaking;  besides  he  was  of 
a  peaceable  Temper,  and  rather  fearful  than  coura- 
gious. 

Abut  the  end  of  the  Year  1684,  he  was  at  Utrecht, 
and  the  next  Spring  went  to  Amsterdam,  with  design 
to  return  to  Utrecht,  as  he  did  afterwards,  not  imagin- 
ing he  should  be  esteenrd  an  Accomplice  of  the  Duke 
of  Monmouth :  He  had  formerly  had  a  desire  to  lodge 
with  Mr.  Guenelon,  but  he  excus'd  himself,  because  it 
was  not  the  Custom  of  their  City  to  give  Lodgings  to 
Strangers,  tho'  otherwise  he  had  a  great  esteem  for 
him,  and  was  very  well  pleas'd  with  his  Visits.  But 
when  Mr.  Guenelon  saw  his  danger,  and  that  it  was 
Time  to  do  him  a  kindness,  he  generously  engag'd 
his  Father  in  Law  Mr.  Veen  to  entertain  him  in  his 
House,  and  wrote  to  Utrecht  to  advertise  him  of  it, 
as  did  Mr.  Limborch  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Veen.  Mr. 
Locke  on  this  came  to  Amsterdam,  and  conceal'd  him- 
self at  Mr.  Veen's  two  or  three  Months;  and  in  the 
mean  time,  Mr.  Limborch  convey'd  the  Letters  that 
were  wrote  to  him,  and  kept  Mr.  Lock's  Will,  which 
he  desir'd  him  to  send  to  one  of  his  Relations,  whom 
he  named,  if  he  should  Die.  In  the  mean  Time,  they 
consulted  one  of  the  chief  Magistrates  of  the  Town, 
to  know  if  he  might  be  safe  there ;  who  replied,  that 
he  could  not  protect  him,  if  the  King  of  England  sent 
for  him,  but  that  he  would  not  deliver  him,  and  would 
not  fail  to  give  notice  of  it  to  Mr.  Veen. 

This  did  a  little  compose  his  mind,  and  he  stay'd 
with  Mr.  Veen  till  September,  going  out  only  in  the 


xxviii    THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

Nights  to  prevent  being  discover'd :  But  being  per- 
swaded  to  go  rather  to  Cleves,  he  went  thither,  but 
came  back  the  beginning  of  November.  'Twas  at 
Mr.  Veen's  that  he  compos'd  his  Latin  Letter  of  Tole- 
ration, which  was  Printed  at  Tergou  in  1689.  and  en- 
tituled,  Epistola  de  Tolerantia  ad  Clarissimum  rirum, 
T.  A.  R.  P.  T.  O.  L.  A.  scripta.  a.  P.  A.  P.  O.  I.  L.  A. 
The  first  Letters  signifie,  Theologies  apud  Remon- 
strantes  Professorem,  Tyrannydis  osorem  Limburginm 
Amstelodamensem;  and  the  Latter,  Pads  amico,  Per- 
seqnutionis  osore,  Joanne  Lockio  Anglo.  This  little 
Book  was  Translated  into  English,  and  Printed  twice 
at  London  in  the  Year  1690.  It  was  abridg'd  in  the 
fifteenth  Tome  of  the  Bibliotheque  Unirerselle,  Article 
the  Fourteenth.  About  this  Time,  it  was  also  that 
Mr.  Locke  read  and  approv'd  of  several  Pieces  of 
Episcopius;  (for  till  then  he  knew  the  Remonstrants 
only  by  hear-say,  and  a  little  Conversation  he  had  with 
them  here)  and  was  surprized  to  find  their  Sentiments 
nearer  to  his  own  than  he  imagin'd,  and  afterwards 
made  great  use  of  the  Light  that  he  receiv'd  from 
them. 

At  the  end  of  the  Year,  Mr.  Locke  went  to  lodge 
at  Mr.  Guenelon's,  where  he  was  likewise  the  Year 
following. 

It  being  evident  to  all,  that  he  had  no  Hand  in  the 
Enterprize  of  the  Duke  of  Monmouth,  he  began  to 
appear  again  in  Publick  in  the  Year  1686.  and  then 
gave  me  the  *Nouvelle  Methode  de  dresser  des  Re- 
cueils,  which  is  in  the  Second  Tome  of  the  Biblio- 
theque Universelle.  He  made  me  likewise  several  Ex- 
tracts of  Books,  as  that  of  Mr.  Boyle  concerning  spe- 
fifique  Remedies,  which  is  in  the  same  Tome,  and 

*  A  new  Method  of  making  Common-place  Books. 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE,    xxix 

some  others  that  are  in  the  following.  I  sent  him 
some  Copies  of  his  Methode  to  Utrecht,  (whither  he 
went  in  Autumn)  which  I  had  printed  by  themselves, 
and  he  order'd  me  to  send  some  to  Mr.  Toinard,  to 
whom  it  was  dedicated  tho'  his  Name  was  not  set  be- 
fore it. 

At  the  end  of  the  Year  Mr.  Locke  return'd  to 
Amsterdam,  and  took  up  his  Lodgings  at  Mr.  Guene- 
lon's,  his  old  Quarters. 

In  1687.  he  desir'd  that  Mr.  Limborch,  and  I,  and 
some  other  Friends  would  set  up  Conferences,  and  that 
to  this  end  we  should  meet  together  once  in  a  Week, 
sometimes  at  one  House  and  then  at  another,  by  turns ; 
and  that  there  should  be  some  Question  propos'd,  of 
which  every  one  should  give  his  Opinion  at  the  next 
Meeting,  and  I  have  still  by  me  the  Rules,  which  he 
would  have  us  observe  written  in  Latin  by  his 
own  Hand.  But  our  Conferences  were  interrupted  by 
his  Absence,  because  he  went  to  Rotterdam,  where  he 
lodg'd  with  Mr.  Furly,  he  return'd  again  to  Amster- 
dam, tho'  it  was  but  for  a  little  Time. 

Towards  the  Latter  End  of  this  Year  he  made  an 
Abridgment,  in  English,  of  his  Essay  concerning  Hu- 
mane Understanding,  which  was  then  in  Manuscript. 
I  translated  it  into  French,  and  Publish'd  it  in  the 
eight  Tome  of  the  Bibliotheque  Universelle  in  Jan- 
uary 1688.  and  I  had  some  Copies  of  it  Printed  by 
themselves,  to  which  he  added  a  short  Dedication  to 
the  Earl  of  Pembroke.  This  Abridgment  pleas'd  a 
great  many  Persons,  and  made  them  desirous  of  see- 
ing the  Work  intire ;  but  several  who  had  never  heard 
of  the  Name  of  Mr.  Locke,  and  who  had  only  seen  the 
Abridgment  in  the  Bibliotheque  Universelle,  thought 
that  it  was  a  Project  of  a  Work  which  was  but  ye< 


xxx   THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

design'd,  and  that  I  Father'd  it  upon  an  English  Man, 
to  know  what  the  World  thought  of  it,  but  they  were 
soon  undeceiv'd. 

At  length  the  Happy  Revolution  in  England  at  the 
end  of  the  Year  1688.  and  the  beginning  of  1689.  by 
the  Courage  and  good  Conduct  of  the  Prince  of 
Orange,  open'd  a  way  to  his  return  into  his  own 
Country,  and  he  went  thither  in  February  1689.  with 
the  same  Fleet  that  Conducted  over  the  Princess  of 
Orange.  At  London  he  endeavour'd  to  recover  his 
right  of  Fellow  of  Christ-Church  Colledge  in  Oxford, 
not  that  he  had  any  design  of  living  there,  but  only 
that  the  World  might  see  the  wrong  that  was  done 
him.  This  would  have  been  granted  him  but  since 
the  Members  of  that  Society  could  not  come  to  a 
Resolution  of  turning  out  him  that  was  put  in  his 
Place,  and  they  would  have  kept  him  as  a  Super- 
numerary, he  withdrew  his  Suit. 

Mr.  Locke  being  very  much  taken  Notice  of,  and 
esteem'd  by  several  Noblemen,  that  were  after  the 
Revolution  in  Favour  with  the  Court,  he  might  very 
easily  have  got  into  some  considerable  Office:  But 
he  contented  himself  with  being  of  one  of  the  Com- 
missioners of  Appeals,  which  brought  him  in  Two 
Hundred  Pounds  per  Annum,  and  which  suited  him, 
because  it  did  not  require  a  constant  Attendance.  This 
Office  is  at  the  disposal  of  the  Lords  of  the  Treasury 
and  the  Lord  Mordaunt,  who  was  one  of  them,  and 
who  was  since  created  Earl  of  Monmouth  and  then  of 
Peterborough,  desiring  it  for  him,  the  other  Lords 
agreed  to  it.  About  the  same  Time,  Mr.  Locke  had 
the  offer  of  a  publick  Character,  and  it  was  put  to 
his  Choice,  whether  he  would  go  as  Envoy  either  to 
the  Emperor,  or  to  the  Elector  of  Brandebourg,  or  any 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE,     xxxi 

other  Court,  where  he  thought  the  Air  might  agree 
best  with  his  Health  which  was  very  unsettled;  but 
fearing  least  the  Service  of  the  King  might  suffer, 
if  the  Air  of  the  Place  did  not  agree  with  him,  or  that 
it  would  endanger  his  Life,  unless  he  made  a  speedy 
return,  he  refus'd  an  Office  of  this  Nature. 

However  he  improv'd  his  time  another  way,  for 
a  Divine  Writing  against  his  first  Letter  concerning 
Toleration ;  he  answer'd  him  in  1690.  by  a  second 
Letter,  which  is  abridg'd  in  the  nineteenth  Tome  of 
the  Bibliotheque  Universelle.  Article  the  second.  He 
did  not  set  his  Name  to  it,  that  he  might  not  be  en- 
gag'd  in  any  personal  Quarrels,  which  might  possibly 
have  turn'd  to  his  disadvantage,  without  serving  any 
ways  to  the  advancement  of  Truth.  But  the  Style  of 
it  plainly  shew'd  the  Author.  It  was  in  the  same 
Year  likewise,  that  the  first  Edition  of  his  Essay  con- 
cerning Humane  Understanding  was  Printed  in  Eng- 
lish in  Folio;  it  has  since  had  three  Editions  in  the 
same  Language,  in  1694,  1697,  and  in  1700.  This 
last  year  it  was  Publish'd  in  French  at  Amsterdam, 
by  H.  Schelte,  Mr.  Coste,  who  was  then  in  the  same 
House  with  the  Author,  translated  it  under  his  in- 
spection with  very  great  Care,  Fidelity  and  Plainness ; 
and  this  Version  is  very  much  esteem'd.  It  hath  made 
known  his  Opinions  to  those  that  are  on  this  side  of 
the  water,  and  more  at  large,  than  the  Abridgment 
that  was  Publish'd  in  1688.  could  do.  The  Author 
being  present,  he  corrected  several  places  in  the  Orig- 
inal, that  he  might  make  them  more  plain  and  easie  to 
translate,  and  very  carefully  revis'd  the  Translation; 
so  that  it  is  not  in  the  least  inferiour  to  the  English, 
and  often  more  clear;  this  Book  was  likewise  trans- 
lated into  Latin  by  Mr.  Burridge  in  1701.  there  is 


xxxii     THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

besides  a  small  Abridgment  of  it  in  English,  by  Mr. 
Wynne.  The  fourth  English  Edition  is  the  best  and 
most  enlarg'd.  Those  who  have  compar'd  it  with 
the  former,  may  have  observ'd  in  it,  that  sincerity 
and  that  Love  to  Truth,  which  the  Author  discovers 
in  the  Twenty  first  Chapter  of  the  second  Book,  where 
he  treats  concerning  Power ;  for  he  has  made  several 
Alterations  in  the  Idea,  that  he  had  given  of  the 
manner,  wherein  we  are  determin'd  to  Will.  Few 
Philosophers  can  perswade  themselves  to  correct  their 
Thoughts,  and  there  is  nothing  they  will  not  do  rather 
than  confess  their  Mistakes.  But  Mr.  Locke  had  too 
great  a  Love  for  Truth  to  follow  their  Example,  and 
he  himself  acknowledges  in  his  Preface ;  that  after 
a  more  near  Examination  of  the  Matter,  he  saw  rea- 
son to  alter  his  Opinion. 

He  Publish'd  likewise  the  same  year  his  two  Treat- 
ises of  Government,  which  are  spoken  of  in  the  nine- 
teenth Tome  of  the  Bibliotheque  Universelle.  Article 
the  Eight ;  this  Book  was  afterwards  translated  into 
French,  and  Printed  at  Amsterdam,  and  has  been  re- 
printed in  English,  in  1694,  and  1698.  We  shall  in 
a  little  time  see  another  English  Edition  of  it,  much 
more  correct  than  the  former,  as  well  as  a  better 
French  Version.  Mr.  Locke  did  not  put  his  Name 
to  it,  because  the  Principles  which  he  there  establishes, 
are  contrary  to  those,  which  were  generally  taught  in 
England  before  the  Revolution,  and  which  tended  to 
establish  an  arbitrary  Power  that  was  not  restrain'd 
by  any  Laws.  He  entirely  overthrew  these  Turkish 
Politicks,  which  some  Persons  preach'd  up  as  an  Ar- 
ticle of  Religion,  to  flatter  those  that  aspir'd  to  a 
Power,  which  is  above  Humane  Nature. 

Mr.  Locke  liv'd  at  London  about  two  years  after 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE,    xxxiii 

the  Revolution,  esteem'd  by  all  those  that  knew  him, 
he  convers'd  familiarly  with  Persons  of  the  highest 
Rank ;  but  nothing  pleas'd  him  more  than  the  weekly 
Conferences,  that  he  had  with  the  Earl  of  Pembroke, 
who  was  then  Lord  Keeper  of  the  Privy  Zeal,  and  who 
has  since  been  made  President  of  the  Privy  Council, 
which  Post  he  now  holds  with  general  Approbation 
under  her  present  Majesty.  When  the  Air  of  Lon- 
don began  to  affect  his  Lungs,  he  went  for  some 
days  to  a  Seat,  that  the  Earl  of  Peterborough  had 
a  little  out  of  Town,  where  he  always  met  with  a 
hearty  Welcome,  but  he  was  oblig'd  afterwards  to 
think  of  quite  leaving  London,  at  least  all  the  Winter 
Season,  and  to  go  to  some  place  at  a  greater  distance. 
He  had  made  some  Visits  at  different  times  to  Sir 
Francis  Masham,  who  liv'd  at  Oates  a  little  more  than 
20  Miles  from  London,  where  he  found  the  Air  so 
good,  that  he  thought  there  was  none  could  suit  better 
with  his  Constitution ;  besides  the  agreeable  Company 
that  he  found  at  Sir  Francis  Masham's,  which  would 
beautifie  the  most  melancholy  place,  was  one  great 
Motive  no  doubt,  to  incline  him  to  desire  that  Gentle- 
man to  receive  him  into  his  Family,  that  he  might 
settle  there  and  expect  his  Death ;  in  applying  himself 
to  his  Studies,  as  much  as  his  weak  Health  would 
allow.  He  was  receiv'd  on  his  own  Terms,  that  he 
might  have  his  entire  Liberty  there,  and  look  upon 
himself  as  at  his  own  House ;  and  it  was  in  this  pleas- 
ant Society  that  he  pass'd  the  rest  of  his  Life,  and 
from  which  he  was  absent  as  little  as  possible,  be- 
cause the  Air  of  London  grew  more  and  more  trouble- 
some to  him ;  he  went  thither  only  in  the  Summer  for 
Three  or  four  Months,  and  if  he  return'd  to  Oates 


xxxiv   THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

any  thing  indispos'd,  the  Air  of  the  Country  soon 
recover'd  him. 

In  1692.  he  put  out  his  Third  Letter  of  Toleration, 
in  which  he  answer'd  some  new  Objections,  that  had 
been  made  against  his  Opinions  with  so  great  strength 
and  accuracy,  as  made  it  needless  for  him  to  write 
any  thing  farther  on  that  Subject:  And  here  I  can't 
but  take  notice  of  the  strange  and  unaccountable  Tem- 
per of  some  Men,  who  though  they  are  fully  convinc'd, 
that  their  clear  and  distinct  knowledge,  is  of  very  small 
Extent,  and  that  they  are  very  easily  mistaken  in  the 
Judgments  they  pass  of  things,  will  yet  when  it  is 
in  their  Power  persecute  others,  because  they  differ 
from  them  in  their  Notions,  and  this  at  the  same  time 
that  they  would  think  it  very  hard  if  they  were  on 
the  weaker  side,  to  be  persecuted  on  this  account  them- 
selves ;  but  it  is  yet  more  strange  that  they  should 
interest  Religion  in  the  case,  and  imploy  it's  Au- 
thority to  defend  those  Practices  which  it  expressly 
forbids.  This  can  only  proceed  from  a  proud  and 
tyrannical  Spirit,  which  passes  upon  the  World  under 
the  disguise  of  Piety,  almost  after  the  same  manner, 
as  the  Itch  after  arbitrary  Power,  conceals  it  self  under 
the  specious  Pretext  of  the  publick  Good,  how  con- 
trary soever  it  may  be  to  it.  . 

But  this  is  no  proper  place  to  bewail  these  Irregu- 
larities of  the  mind  of  Man ;  the  English  Nation  how- 
ever is  highly  oblig'd  to  Mr.  Locke,  for  having  un- 
deceiv'd  a  great  many  Persons,  and  made  them  detest 
those  persecuting  Maxims,  which  for  want  of  due 
Consideration  they  had  embrac'd.  'Tis  well  known, 
that  about  this  time  the  Coin  of  England  was  very 
bad,  having  been  so  much  clip'd  through  the  negli- 
gence of  the  proceeding  Reigns,  who  had  not  taken 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE,    xxxv 

Care  to  remedy  it,  that  it  wanted  above  a  Third  it's 
due  Weight.  The  effect  of  this  was  that  the  People 
thought  themselves  a  great  deal  Richer,  than  indeed 
they  were ;  For  although  the  Coin  was  not  raised  in 
it's  value  by  any  publick  Authority,  it  was  put  off  in 
Trade  for  above  a  third  part  more  than  it  weigh'd. 
This  was  very  prejudicial  to  Trade  on  several  Ac- 
counts, of  which  I  shall  not  here  take  any  notice. 

Mr.  Locke  had  observed  this  disorder  ever  since 
his  Return  to  England,  and  he  frequently  spoke  of  it, 
that  he  might  put  the  Nation  upon  taking  some  mea- 
sures to  prevent  it.  He  said  then,  That  the  Nation  was 
in  greater  Danger  from  a  secret  unobserv'd  abuse,  than 
from  all  those  other  Evils,  of  which  Persons  were  gen- 
erally so  apprehensive;  and  that  if  Care  were  not  taken 
to  rectifie  the  Coin,  that  Irregularity  alone  wou'd  prove 
fatal  to  us,  though  zve  shou'd  succeed  in  everything 
else.  One  day  when  he  seem'd  very  much  disturbed 
about  this  Matter,  some  Persons  rally'd  him,  as  if  he 
tormented  himself  with  a  groundless  Fear;  he  an- 
swer'd,  That  Persons  might  laugh  if  they  pleas'd,  but 
they  wou'd  find  in  a  very  short  time  that  if  Care  was 
not  taken,  we  shou'd  want  Money  in  England  to  buy 
Bread.  And  it  happen'd  accordingly  in  1695.  So  that 
the  Parliament  were  forced  to  rectifie  that  abuse  the 
beginning  of  the  following  Year.  In  order  to  stir  up 
the  English  Nation,  to  take  this  Matter  into  Consid- 
eration Mr.  Locke  Publish'd  in  1692.  a  little  Treatise 
entituled,  Some  Considerations  of  the  Consequences 
of  the  Lowering  of  the  Interest,  and  Raising  the 
value  of  Money,  which  was  sent  to  a  Member  of  Par- 
liament 1691.  In  which  we  may  find  several  nice  and 
curious  Observations  on  both  those  Subjects,  as  well  as 
the  Trade  of  England  in  general.  Afterwards  in  1695. 


xxxvi    THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

He  took  this  Subject  in  hand  again;  when,  according  to 
his  Prediction  the  Nations  danger  obliged  the  Parlia- 
ment, to  think  seriously  of  this  Matter.  By  this  it 
appears,  that  he  was  able  to  reason  on  the  common  Af- 
fairs of  Life,  as  well  as  on  the  most  abstracted  Sub- 
jects ;  and  that  he  was  none  of  those  Philosophers, 
who  spend  their  whole  Lives  in  the  search  after  Truths 
purely  Speculative,  but  by  their  Ignorance  of  those 
things  which  concern  the  publick  Good,  are  rendred 
incapable  of  serving  their  Country. 

In  1693.  He  Publish 'd  his  Thoughts  concerning  the 
Education  of  Children,  to  which  he  added  several 
things  in  two  other  Editions,  he  put  out  of  it  in  1694, 
and  1698.  this  Book  was  also  translated  into  French 
and  Dutch  in  Holland;  and  although  there  are  many 
things  in  it,  that  respect  the  Faults  peculiar  to  the 
English  way  of  educating  Children,  yet  it  contains 
several  Remarks  that  may  be  useful  to  other  Nations. 

In  1695.  Mr.  Locke  was  made  a  Commissioner  of 
the  Trade  and  Plantations,  these  Commissioners  com- 
pose a  Council,  that  takes  Care  of  every  thing  relating 
to  the  English  Trade  and  Plantations ;  and  have  every 
one  a  Salary  of  a  Thousand  pounds  a  year.  He  dis- 
charged the  Duties  of  this  place  with  a  great  deal  of 
Care,  and  universal  Approbation,  till  the  Year  1700, 
in  which  he  quitted  it,  being  no  longer  able  to  live 
in  London  as  he  did  before.  He  acquainted  no  Person 
with  his  Design  of  leaving  that  place,  'till  he  had  given 
up  his  Commission  into  the  King's  hands.  His  Maj- 
esty was  very  unwilling  to  receive  it,  and  told  Mr. 
Locke  he  shou'd  be  very  glad  if  he  wou'd  continue 
in  his  Service,  tho'  he  gave  never  so  little  Attendance, 
and  that  he  did  not  desire  him  to  stay  in  Town  one 
day,  to  the  prejudice  of  his  Health.  But  he  told  his 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE,    xxxvii 

Majesty,  That  he  cou'd  not  in  Conscience  hold  a  place, 
to  which  a  considerable  Salary  was  annexed,  without 
performing  the  Duties  of  it,  and  that  he  did  therefore 
humbly  desire  a  Discharge.  A  great  many  Persons 
would  not  have  been  so  scrupulous  in  this  Matter  as 
he  was,  but  wou'd  have  accepted  the  King's  Grant,  or 
at  least  wou'd  have  endeavour'd  to  resign  such  a  place 
as  this  to  their  advantage. 

And  indeed  he  deserved  to  enjoy  the  Salary  belong- 
ing to  that  place,  even  though  he  should  have  per- 
formed none  of  its  Duties ;  if  it  were  only  on  the  Ac- 
count of  being  one  of  those,who  took  the  greatest  Pains 
to  convince  the  Parliament,  that  the  only  way  to  pre- 
serve the  Trade  of  England,  was  to  new  Mint  the  Mony 
without  raising  its  Value  to  the  Publick  Loss;  for 
this  end  he  wrote  a  little  Treatise,  containing  New 
Considerations  on  the  raising  the  Vahie  of  Coin,  which 
he  publish'd  in  1695.  This  Treatise  together  with  sev- 
eral others  were  Reprinted  in  the  Year  after,  with  the 
Title  of  Papers  concerning  Mony,  Interest,  and  Trade. 
The  Parliament  following  his  Opinion  in  this  Matter, 
made  in  the  midst  of  a  dangerous  War,  such  a  Refor- 
mation in  the  Coin,  as  many  Nations  wou'd  have 
hardly  undertaken  in  a  Time  of  Peace.  'Tis  well 
known,  that  there  are  some  Kingdoms,  wherein  to  fill 
the  Princes  Treasury  out  of  the  Pockets  of  private 
Persons,  the  Mony  is  made  to  rise  or  fall  without  any 
regard  to  the  loss  the  Publick  sustains  thereby:  But 
such  Maxims  are  not  approved  of  in  England. 

In  the  same  Year  1695.  Mr.  Locke  put  out  his  Book 
of  the  Reasonableness  of  Christianity;  'wherein  he 
shows,  that  the  Christian  Religion  as  deliver'd  in  the 
Scriptures,  is  the  most  reasonable  Institution  in  the 
World :  We  have  acquainted  the  Publick  with  the 


xxxviii  THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

design  of  this  Book,  in  the  2d  Tome  of  this  Biblio- 
theque  Choisie,  Art.  8.  it  was  quickly  after  Translated 
into  French  and  Dutch,  and  attack'd  in  England  by 
a  passionate  Divine.  In  1696.  the  Author  answer'd 
that  Book,  and  after  defended  his  Answer  with  such 
Strength  of  Reason,  and  yet  with  so  great  Modera- 
tion, that  he  might  justly  have  expected  of  his  Ad- 
versary a  publick  Acknowledgement  of  his  Error,  had 
he  not  been  one  of  that  sort  of  Men,  who  are  equally 
Strangers  to  Shame  and  Justice.  Mr.  Locke  was  also 
obliged  to  Mr.  Bold  Minister  of  Steeple  in  Dorset- 
shire, who  defended  his  Book  without  knowing  the 
Author,  in  two  short  Discourses  that  came  out  in 
1697,  as  also  in  a  Second  Answer  of  which  we  have 
spoken,  in  the  2d  Tome  of  this  Bibliotheque  Choisie. 
Art.  8. 

Some  time  before  this,  there  came  out  a  Book  at 
London,  intitled,  Christianity  not  Mysterious;  in  which 
the  Author  pretended  to  prove,  that  there  is  nothing 
in  the  Christian  Religion,  not  only  -which,  is  contrary 
to  Reason,  but  even  which  is  above  it.  This  Author 
in  explaining  the  Nature  of  Reason,  had  made  use  of 
several  Reasonings,  that  were  very  like  to  some  Mr. 
Locke  imploys  in  his  Treatise  of  Humane  Under- 
standing. 

It  happen'd  also,  that  some  English  Unitarians  had 
about  that  time  Publish'd  several  little  Books,  in  which 
they  talked  very  much  about  Reason,  and  laid  down 
their  Notions  of  what  was  contrary  to  it,  and  affirm'd 
there  was  no  such  Doctrine  in  the  Christian  Religion. 
Mr.  Locke  had  also  with  a  great  deal  of  Truth  as- 
serted, that  Revelation  delivers  nothing  contrary  to 
any  plain  Consequences  of  Reason.  All  these  Things 
put  together,  engaged  Dr.  StillmgHeet  the  late  Bishop 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE,   xxxix 

of  Worcester,  to  join  Mr.  Locke  in  Company  with 
those  Persons  in  a  Book  he  put  out  in  1697.  Wherein 
he  defends  the  Doctrine  of  the  Trinity  against  them.* 
In  this  Book  he  opposed  some  Notions  of  Mr.  Locke 
concerning  the  Knowledge  we  have  of  Substances, 
and  some  other  Things,  fearing,  without  Reason,  that 
those  Notions  might  be  brought  in  favour  of  some 
Heretical  Opinions ;  Mr.  Locke  answer'd  him,  and  the 
Bishop  reply'd  the  same  Year.  This  Reply  was  con- 
futed by  a  Second  Letter  of  Mr.  Locke,  which  drew 
a  Second  Answer  from  that  Learned  Bishop  in  1698. 
and  Mr.  Locke  answer'd  that  in  a  Third  Letter  in 
1699.  wherein  he  discoursed  more  at  large,  of  the 
Certainty  by  Reason  or  by  Ideas,  of  the  Certainty  of 
Faith,  of  the  Resurrection  of  the  same  Body,  and  the 
Immateriality  of  the  Soul,  and  show'd  the  perfect 
Agreement  of  his  Principles  with  Faith,  and  that  they 
had  not  the  least  tendency  to  Scepticism  as  Dr.  Stil- 
lingfleet  had  affirm'd.  But  the  Bishop  dy'd  sometime 
after  this,  and  so  the  Dispute  ended. 

We  may  observe  Two  Things  more  especially  in 
this  Dispute,  the  one  relating  to  the  Subject  of  it,  the 
other  to  the  Manner  wherein  that  was  handled.  Every 
Body  admired  the  Strength  of  Mr.  Lock's  reasonings, 
and  his  great  clearness  and  exactness  not  only  in  ex- 
plaining his  own  Notions,  but  in  laying  open  those  of 
his  Adversary.  Nor  were  they  less  surprized,  that  a 
Man  of  the  Bishops  Learning  shou'd  ingage  in  a 
Controversie,  wherein  he  had  all  the  disadvantages 
possible,  for  he  was  by  no  means  able  to  maintain 
his  Opinions  against  Mr.  Locke,  whose  Notions  he 
neither  understood,  nor  the  Thing  it  self  about  which 
he  Disputed.  This  famous  Prelate  had  spent  the 

*  Chap.   10. 


xl        THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

greatest  Part  of  his  time  in  the  Study  of  Ecclesiastical 
Antiquities,  and  reading  an  infinite  number  of  Books, 
but  was  no  great  Philosopher,  and  had  never  used 
himself  to  that  close  Correct  way  of  Thinking  and 
Writing  in  which  Mr.  Locke  did  particularly  excel. 
However  this  excellent  Philosopher,  tho'  he  had  much 
the  better  in  the  Controversie,  and  had  Reason  enough 
to  complain  of  the  Bishop  for  having  charged  him  un- 
justly, and  without  a  sufficient  acquaintance  with  the 
Subject  he  handled,  was  yet  very  far  from  abusing 
the  Advantages  he  had,  but  always  detected  and  re- 
futed his  Errors  with  civility  and  respect.  He  shews, 
'tis  true,  that  the  Bishop  did  not  understand  the  Things 
he.  talk'd  about,  and  was  very  uncorrect  in  his  Ex- 
pressions, but  he  do's  rather  seem  to  insinuate  it,  by 
producing  his  own  Words  and  leaving  the  World  to 
judge,  than  reflect  on  him  for  it.  For  my  Part,  I 
confess,  I  never  read  a  Dispute  managed  in  so  cool 
Blood,  or  with  so  much  Art  and  Exactness  on  the 
one  side,  nor  on  the  other,  so  unjustly,  confusedly, 
or  so  little  to  the  Credit  of  the  Author. 

I  was  also  surprized  at  the  Bishops  Censure  of  *Mr. 
de  Courcelles;  in  the  6th  Chapter  of  his  Defence  of 
the  Trinity,  and  wonder'd  how  he  cou'd  think  so  easily 
to  Answer  him.  I  must  confess  indeed,  that  the 
Bishop  has  Reason  in  asserting,  that  St.  Hilary  in 
the  f  Passage  Mr.  de  Courcelles  cites  out  of  his  Book, 
de  Synodis,  do's  speak  to  the  Eastern  Bishops,  and 
not  to  those  of  Gaul  and  Germany  as  he  thought. 
But  then  it  must  also  be  granted,  that  in  the  main 
Mr.  de  Courcelles  has  in  his  Dissertation  concerning 
the  Words  Trinity,  &c.  very  faithfully  represented 

*  Curcelleus. 

f  Num.  8 1.  Edit.  Benedict. 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE.       xli 

the  Opinion  of  St.  Hilary.  Dr.  Stillingneet  had  either 
read  this  Book  without  due  Attention,  or  forgot  its 
Contents,  for  of  all  other  Books,  this  do's  most  clearly 
prove,  that  the  Orthodox  of  that  Time  believ'd,  that 
the  Divine  Nature  as  a  Species  did  contain  under  it 
Three  Persons  numerically  distinguisht. 

St.  Hilary  a  little  before  the  *  Passage  that  gave  Dr. 
Stillingneet  occasion  to  charge  Mr.  de  Courcelles  with 
a  gross  Mistake,  explains  how  according  to  the  Semi 
Arians;  it  might  be  said  that  the  Father  and  Son  have 
a  like  Essence?  And  then  delivers  his  own  Opinion 
in  the  following  Words.  "Caret  igitur,  Fratres,  simili- 
tude Naturae  contumelise  suspicione ;  nee  potest  videri 
Filius  idcirco  in  proprietate  Paternae  Naturae  non  esse 
quia  similis  est,  cum  similitude  nulla  sit  nisi  ex  aequali- 
tate  Naturae ;  aequalitas  autem  Naturae  non  potest  esse, 
nisi  una  sit ;  una  vero  non  Personae  Unitate,  sed  GE- 
NERIS. That  is,  Therefore  Brethren,  the  Son  may 
•without  Danger  of  Blasphemy,  be  said  to  be  of  a  like 
Nature  with  the  Father,  and  tho'  he  be  said  to  be  like 
him,  it  do's  not  follow  that  therefore  he  is  not  of  the 
same  Nature,  for  Similitude  Hows  from  Equality  of 
Nature,  now  there  can  be  no  Equality  of  Nature,  but 
where  the  Nature  is  one,  and  that  not  with  a  Personal, 
but  Generical  Unity.  Now  a  Person  who  reads  this 
with  any  tolerable  degree  of  Attention,  will  easily 
see,  that  supposing  the  Unity  of  the  Divine  Nature 
to  be  Numerical,  'tis  Nonsense  to  say  the  Nature  of 
the  Son  is  equal  or  like  to  that  of  the  Father ;  but 
that  this  way  of  Expression  is  proper  enough  in  the 
Mouth  of  those  Persons,  who  believe  the  Father  and 

*  Num  76.  Ejusd.  Edit. 

t  By  Personae  we  must  understand  a  Substance,   and  not  a  Mode, 
which  is  called  Personality. 


xlii      THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

Son  are  one  in  Specie  or  gencrically  as  St.  Hilary 
speaks.  See  also  the  I5th  Article  in  the  Bened.  Edi- 
tion. The  same  Thing  might  be  plainly  proved  out 
of  his  Books  of  the  Trinity.  If  Dr.  Stillingneet  had 
examin'd  St.  Hilary  only,  carefully  and  without  Preju- 
dice, he  wou'd  have  been  of  the  same  mind  with  Mr. 
de  Courcelles,  and  wou'd  never  have  differ'd  with 
him  about  a  trifling  incident,  while  in  the  main  of 
the  Controversie,  he  gives  a  very  true  Account  of  the 
Doctrine  of  the  Fathers  in  this  Point.  I  shall  say 
no  more  on  this  Head,  and  I  hope  no  Person  will  be 
offended  at  this  little  Digression  I  have  made,  to  de- 
fend at  once  the  Truth  and  Honour  of  Mr.  de  Cour- 
celles, who  was  my  Grandmothers  Brother,  against 
the  Learned  Dr.  StiUingfleet,  for  whose  excellent 
Writings  I  nevertheless  have  an  high  Esteem. 

But  to  return  to  Mr.  Locke,  'tis  very  strange  he 
shou'd  be  able  to  write  so  much  at  so  great  an  Age, 
and  when  besides  his  Health  was  so  infirm,  by  reason 
of  the  Indisposition  of  his  Lungs.  In  1697.  he  was 
obliged  to  go  to  London  in  very  cold  Weather,  because 
the  King  desired  to  see  him.  And  that  Journey  made 
his  Lungs  much  worse,  than  ever  they  had  been  be- 
fore. He  was  so  bad,  that  for  three  or  four  Days, 
while  he  was  in  London,  he  cou'd  not  lie  down ;  and 
I  remember,  that  in  a  Letter  I  receiv'd  from  him, 
he  told  me  he  was  reduced  to  a  perfect  *Orthopncca. 

He  returned  to  Oates  in  so  weak  a  Condition,  that 
he  never"  recover'd  his  former  health.  He  said  that 
his  Majesty  (who  was  also  Asthmatick)  having  heard 
of  his  skill  in  Physick,  desired  to  Discourse  with  him 
about  his  own  Indisposition.  And  I  remember  I 

*  A  difficulty  of  breathing,  when  a  Man  can't  fetch  his  breath,   but 
holding  his  Neck  upright. 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE.       xliii 

heard,  a  little  while  after,  that  Mr.  Locke  had  advised 
the  King  to  abstain  from  Wine,  and  all  Foods  that 
were  heavy  and  clogging.  But  however,  the  King 
kept  to  his  usual  Manner  of  Living;  tho'  he  signify 'd 
to  some  of  those  who  were  near  his  Person,  that  he 
had  a  high  Esteem  for  Mr.  Locke. 

Some  Years  before  his  Death,  he  apply'd  himself 
intirely  to  the  Study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  found 
GO  much  Pleasure  therein,  that  he  was  very  much 
troubled  he  had  apply'd  his  Mind  to  that  Study  no 
sooner.  The  World  has  seen  the  Fruits  of  these 
Studies  in  his  Reasonableness  of  Christianity,  of  which 
we  have  already  spoken,  and  which  is  one  of  the  best 
Pieces  that  have  been  Publish'd  these  many  years,  on 
that  Subject,  and  with  that  Design.  There  is  also, 
lately  come  out  a  Paraphrase  of  his  on  the  Epistle  to 
the  Galatians,  of  which  we  shall  give  some  account 
in  another  Tome  of  this  Bibliotheque  Choisie;  as  also 
cf  those  he  has  written  on  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans, 
Corinthians,  and  Ephesians,  when  they  shall  be  Pub- 
lish'd. 

Above  a  year  before  his  Death,  he  grew  so  very 
v/eak  that  he  cou'd  not  apply  himself  closely  to  any 
thing,  nor  so  much  as  write  a  Letter  to  a  Friend  with- 
out great  Difficulty.  Before  he  had  always  made  use 
of  his  own  hand  for  whatever  he  had  to  write,  and  so 
having  not  been  used  to  Dictate,  he  could  not  employ 
an  Amanuensis  to  ease  himself.  But  though  his  Body 
grew  weaker,  he  still  kept  his  good  Humour,  and  if 
his  Lungs  wou'd  have  permitted  him  to  speak,  his 
Conversation  wou'd  have  been  as  pleasant  and  enter- 
taining as  ever.  A  few  weeks  before  his  Death,  he 
perceiv'd  he  shou'd  not  live  long,  but  yet  he  continued 
as  chearful  and  pleasant  as  before ;  and  when  some 


xliv      THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

Persons  seemed  to  wonder  at  it,  he  would  say,*lVhile 
we  are  alive  let  us  lire. 

This  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  wrought  in  him 
a  lively  and  sincere,  though  unaffected  Piety.  Hav- 
ing not  been  able  to  go  to  Church  for  a  considerable 
time ;  he  thought  convenient,  some  Months  before  he 
dy'd,  to  receive  the  blessed  Sacrament  at  home  accord- 
ing to  a  usual  Practice  of  the  Church  of  England;  and 
two  of  his  Friends  communicated  with  him.  When 
the  Minister  had  performed  his  Office,  Mr.  Locke  told 
him,  That  he  was  in  perfect  Charity  with  all  Men,  and 
in  a  sincere  Communion  with  the  Church  of  Christ,  by 
what  Names  soever  it  might  be  distinguished.  He 
was  a  Man  of  too  great  Understanding;  to  take  the 
Sacrament  as  a  Test  of  a  Schism  or  Party ;  as  a  great 
many  ignorant  Persons  do,  who  by  Communicating 
with  their  own  Church,  condemn  all  other  Christian 
Societies.  He  had  a  deep  Sense  of  the  Divine  Wis- 
dom, that  discovers  it  self  in  those  methods  God  has 
taken  in  saving  Men;  and  when  he  discoursed  about 
it,  he  cou'd  not  forbear  joyning  with  the  Apostle  in 
the  Exclamation :  Oh  the  depths  of  the  Riches  and 
Wisdom  of  God.  And  he  was  perswaded  that  all 
Persons  wou'd  be  of  the  same  Mind,  who  shou'd  read 
the  Scriptures  without  prejudice  and  this  Study  he 
very  frequently  recommended  to  those,  with  whom 
he  conversed  towards  the  latter  end  of  his  Life.  This 
Application  of  these  Holy  Writings,  had  given  him  a 
more  noble  and  compleat  Idea  of  the  Christian  Reli- 
gion than  he  had  before ;  and  if  he  had  enjoy 'd 
strength  enough,  to  have  begun  any  new  Works,  'tis 
very  likely  he  wou'd  have  composed  some  on  purpose, 

*  Vivons  pendant  que  nous  vivons. 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE.       xlv 

to  have  imprest  this  great  and  sublime  Idea,  on  the 
Minds  of  others  in  all  its  extent. 

Some  weeks  before  his  Death  he  cou'd  walk  no 
longer,  and  so  was  carried  about  the  House  in  an 
armed  Chair ;  but  my  Lady  Masham  going  to  see  him 
on  the  27th  of  October  (0.  S.)  1704,  and  not  finding 
him  in  his  Study  where  he  us'd  to  be,  but  in  Bed, 
seemed  to  wonder  at  that  Alteration,  he  told  her,  he 
cou'd  not  bear  the  fatigue  of  rising,  having  weary'd 
himself  too  much  with  it  the  day  before,  and  that  he 
did  not  know  whether  he  shou'd  ever  rise  again.  He 
cou'd  not  Dine  that  day,  and  after  Dinner  some  Per- 
sons who  kept  him  Company  went  into  his  Chamber, 
and  asked  if  they  shou'd  read  something,  to  divert 
him,  but  he  refused  it.  However  some  Papers  being 
brought  into  his  Chamber,  he  inquired  what  they  were 
after  they  were  read,  he  said,  That  his  work  here  was 
almost  at  an  end,  and  he  thanked  God  for  it.  There- 
upon some  body  coming  near  his  Bed,  he  desired, 
They  would  remember  him  in  the  Evening  Prayers. 
They  told  him,  that  if  he  pleased  the  Family  wou'd 
come  to  Prayers  into  his  Chamber,  to  which  he  agreed. 
They  asked  him,  if  he  thought  he  was  near  Death,  he 
answer'd,  That  he  might  perhaps  die  that  Night,  but 
that  he  cou'd  not  live  above  three  or  four  days.  He 
was  then  in  a  cold  Sweat,  but  that  left  him  in  a  little 
time.  He  was  asked  to  take  some  Mum,  a  Liquor 
which  he  had  drunk  with  Pleasure  the  week  before, 
and  which,  as  I  have  heard  him  say,  he  look'd  upon 
to  be  the  most  wholesome  of  all  strong  Drinks ;  he 
took  some  spoonfuls  then,  and  drank  to  the  Health 
of  the  Company,  Wishing  all  of  them  Happiness  when 
'  he  shou'd  be  gone;  afterwards  there  being  no  body 
else  in  the  Chamber  but  my  Lady  Masham,  who  sate 


xlvi      THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

by  the  Bed-side,  he  exhorted  her,  To  look  on  this 
World  only  as  a  State  of  Preparation  for  a  better,  he 
added,  That  he  had  lived  long  enough,  and  that  he 
thanked  God  he  had  in  joy' d  an  happy  Life;  but  that 
after  all,  he  look'd  upon  this  Life  to  be  nothing  but 
vanity.  After  Supper  the  Family  came  up  into  his 
Chamber  to  Prayers;  and  between  eleven  and  twelve 
a  Clock,  he  seem'd  to  be  a  little  better.  My  Lady 
Masham  wou'd  have  watch'd  with  him,  but  he  wou'd 
not  permit  her,  saying,  that,  perhaps  he  might  sleep, 
and  that  if  he  shou'd  find  any  Alteration,  he  wou'd 
send  for  her ;  he  did  not  sleep  that  Night,  but  resolved 
to  try  to  rise  the  next  Day,  as  he  did.  He  was  carry'd 
into  his  Study,  and  was  set  in  an  easier  Chair,  where 
he  slept,  by  Fits,  some  considerable  time.  Then  think- 
ing himself  somewhat  better,  he  had  a  mind  to  be 
Drest  as  he  used  to  be,  and  ask'd  for  some  Small-beer, 
which  he  used  very  seldom  to  taste ;  after  that  he  de- 
sired my  Lady  Masham,  who  was  reading  to  her  self 
in  the  Psalms,  while  they  Drest  him,  to  read  aloud, 
which  accordingly  she  did,  and  he  seem'd  very  atten- 
tive, till  he  was  hinder'd  by  the  nearer  approaches  of 
Death,  upon  which  he  desired  her  to  read  no  more, 
and  died  a  few  minutes  after,  on  the  28th  of  October, 
(O.  S.)  1704.  about  Three  in  the  Afternoon,  in  the 
73d.  Year  of  his  Age. 

Thus  died  one  of  the  greatest  Philosophers  of  our 
Age,  who  after  he  had  made  himself  a  perfect  Master 
of  almost  all  the  parts  of  Philosophy,  and  discover'd 
its  greatest  Secrets  with  uncommon  strength  of  Rea- 
son, and  correctness  of  Thought,  happily  turned  his 
Studies  to  the  Christian  Religion,  which  he  examin'd 
in  its  Original,  with  the  same  Liberty  he  had  used  in 
his  Study  of  other  Sciences,  and  which  he  judged  so 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE,     xlvii 

reasonable  and  excellent  an  Institution,  that  he  Dedi- 
cated the  remainder  of  his  Life  to  the  contemplation 
of  it,  and  endeavour'd  to  raise  in  the  Minds  of  others 
the  same  high  Veneration  he  had  for  it  himself ;  and  as 
he  did  not  choose  a  religious  Course  of  Life  in  a  fit 
of  Discontent  or  ill  Humour,  so  his  Piety  was  neither 
tainted  with  Melancholly  nor  Superstition.  The  same 
Light  that  guided  him  in  his  philosophical  Studies, 
directed  him  in  explaining  the  New  Testament,  and 
kindled  in  his  Soul  a  rational  Piety,  such  as  was  wor- 
thy of  him,  who  gave  us  our  Reason  for  no  other  end, 
but  that  by  it  we  might  be  helpt  to  make  a  good  use 
of  Revelation ;  and  who  by  revealing  his  Will,  sup- 
poses we  will  imploy  the  Judgment  and  Understand- 
ing he  has  given  us,  in  acknowledging,  admiring,  and 
following  it. 

There  is  no  need  for  me  to  write  a  Panegyrick  on 
Mr.  Locke :  His  Works  which  are  read  in  several  Lan- 
guages, are  a  sufficient,  and  will  be  an  eternal  Monu- 
ment of  his  vast  Genius,  sharp  Wit,  and  exact  Judg- 
ment. I  shall  only  insert  a  Character  of  him,  which 
I  receiv'd  from  a  considerable  Person,  to  whom  he 
was  perfectly  well  known. 

"Mr.  Locke,  said  she,  (and  I  can  bear  Witness  to 
"her  Evidence  in  a  great  measure,  by  what  I  have 
"seen  myself  in  Holland)  was  a  great  Philosopher,  and 
"a  fit  Person  to  be  employ 'd  in  Affairs  of  the  highest 
"Consequence.  He  understood  the  politer  Parts  of 
"Learning  perfectly  well ;  and  was  very  genteel  and 
"ingaging  in  his  Conversation.  He  knew  somewhat  of 
"all  those  things  that  are  of  real  use  to  Mankind ;  and 
"was  a  perfect  Master  of  what  he  had  particularly 
"study'd.  But  yet  he  was  not  pufFd  up  by  all  this, 
"nor  ever  seem'd  to  have  a  better  Opinion  of  himself 


xlviii     THE  LIFE  A\D  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

"because  of  his  Knowledge.  Xo  one  was  farther 
"from  assuming-  a  magisterial  Air,  or  was  less  positive 
"in  his  Assertions  than  he,  and  he  was  not  in  the  least 
"offended  with  those  that  did  not  assent  to  his  Opin- 
ions. But  he  cou'd  not  bear  with  a  sort  of  Cavillers, 
"who  will  not  drop  the  Dispute,  though  they  have  been 
"often  refuted,  and  can  only  repeat  the  same  things. 
"He  spake  to  such  Persons  sometimes  with  a  little  heat, 
"but  he  himself  wou'd  first  take  notice  of  his  being  any 
"ways  moved. 

"In  the  most  considerable  Affairs  of  Life,  as  well  as 
"in  Matters  of  Speculation.  He  was  always  ready  to 
"hear  Reason  from  whomsoever  it  came.  He  was  in- 
"deed  the  faithful  Servant,  nay  I  may  say,  the  devoted 
"Slave  of  Truth,  which  he  loved  for  it  self,  and  which 
"no  consideration  was  ever  able  to  make  him  Desert. 

"He  suited  his  Discourse  to  the  meanest  Capacities ; 
"and  in  disputing  with  such  Persons,  he  gave  their 
"Objections  against  him  their  utmost  weight,  not  tak- 
"ing  advantages  of  his  Adversaries,  if  they  had  not 
"expressed  themselves  so  correctly  as  they  ought.  He 
"conversed  very  freely,  and  willingly  with  all  sorts 
"of  Persons,  endeavouring  to  Learn  something  from 
"them:  And  this  proceeded  not  only  from  his  genteel 
"Education,  but  from  his  professed  Opinion,  that  some 
"good  thing  or  other  might  be  learn'd  from  any  Per- 
"son  whatsoever.  And  by  this  means,  he  had  attain'd 
"to  such  a  considerable  Knowledge  of  several  par- 
ticular Arts,  and  Trades,  that  one  wou'd  have  thought, 
"he  had  made  the  Study  of  those  things  a  great  part 
"of  his  Business.  For  even  Tradesmen  by  Profession 
"would  ask  his  Advice,  and  were  frequently  instructed 
"by  him  in  things  relating  to  their  several  Employ- 
"ments. 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE.      xHx 

"If  there  was  anything  that  he  cou'd  not  bear,  'twas 
"ill  Manners,  which  were  indeed  very  ungrateful  to 
"him,  when  he  perceived  they  did  not  arise  from  want 
"of  Conversation,  and  Knowledge  of  the  World,  but 
"from  Pride ;  Ill-nature,  Brutality,  and  other  Vices 
"of  that  Nature.  Otherwise  he  was  very  far  from 
"despising  any  Persons,  though  their  Persons  were 
"never  so  mean.  He  look'd  on  Civility  to  be  not  only 
"something  very  agreeable  and  proper  to  win  upon 
"Men,  but  also  a  Duty  of  Christianity,  and  which 
"ought  to  be  more  pressed,  and  urged  upon  Men, 
"than  it  commonly  is.  He  recommend  on  this  occa- 
"sion,  a  *Treatise  written  by  Gentlemen  of  the  Port- 
" royal,  Concerning  the  means  to  preserve  Peace  among 
"Men,  and  he  very  much  admired  Sermons  he  heard 
"from  Dr.  Whitchcot  on  this  Subject,  and  which  have 
"been  since  Printed. 

"His  Conversation  was  very  agreeable  to  all  sorts 
"of  Persons,  even  to  the  Ladies  themselves ;  and  no 
"Person  was  more  civilly  entertain'd  than  he,  by 
"Persons  of  the  highest  Quality.  For  if  he  had  not 
"naturally  those  Qualifications,  that  render  the  Con- 
"versation  of  genteel  and  accomplish'd  Persons  more 
"easie,  free,  and  less  formal  than  that  of  other  Per- 
"sons,  yet  he  had  acquired  them  by  his  Acquaintance 
"with  the  world.  And  this  recommended  him  so  much 
"the  more,  because  Persons  who  knew  him  not,  did 
"not  expect  that  Politeness  in  a  Man  so  much  given 
"to  study  as  he  was.  Those  who  were  desirous  of 
"his  Conversation,  to  Learn  those  things  that  might 
"be  expected  in  a  Man  of  his  Learning,  and  accord- 
ingly address'd  him  with  great  respect,  were  sur- 
"prized  to  find  in  him,  not  only  the  Civility  of  a  well 

*  'Tis  Printed  among  the  Essays  de  Morale,  de  Port-royal. 


1          THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

"educated  Person,  but  even  all  the  Politeness  that 
"cou'd  be  desired. 

"He  spake  very  often  against  Raillery,  which  indeed 
"is  the  nicest  Point  in  Conversation,  and  of  danger- 
"ous  Consequence,  if  not  prudently  managed.  And 
"yet  no  Person  rally 'd  with  a  better  Grace  than  he ; 
"but  he  always  took  Care  to  say  nothing  offensive, 
"or  prejudicial  to  any  Person.  He  knew  how  to 
"give  a  pleasant  and  agreeable  Turn  to  everything  he 
"said.  If  he  rally'd  his  Friends,  it  was  either  for 
"some  inconsiderable  Faults,  or,  something  which, 
"'twas  for  their  Benefit  to  make  known.  He  was  so 
"extraordinarily  Civil ;  that  when  he  seem'd  disposed 
"to  Jest,  the  Company  was  sure  he  was  about  to  say 
"something  to  their  Advantage.  He  never  jested  with 
"the  natural  Infirmities,  or  Misfortunes  of  any  Per- 
"sons. 

"He  was  very  charitable  to  the  Poor,  except  such 
"Persons  as  were  Idle  or  Prophane,  and  spent  the 
"Sunday  in  the  Alehouses,  and  went  not  to  Church. 
"But  above  all,  he  did  compassionate  those,  who  after 
"they  had  labour'd  as  long  as  their  Strength  wou'd 
"hold,  were  reduced  to  Poverty.  He  said  it  was  not 
"enough  to  keep  them  from  starving,  but  that  such 
"a  Provision  ought  to  be  made  for  them,  that  they 
"might  live  comfortably.  Accordingly  he  sought  oc- 
"casions  of  doing  Good  to  those  who  deserved  it ;  an,d 
"often  when  he  walked  out,  he  wou'd  visit  the  Poor 
"of  the  Neighbourhood,  and  give  them  somewhat  to 
"supply  their  Necessities,  or  buy  the  Remedies  which 
"he  prescribed  them,  if  they  were  sick,  and  had  no 
"other  Physician.  He  wou'd  not  let  any  useful  thing 
"be  lost  or  wasted:  He  thought  that  was  to  destroy 
"those  good  Things  of  which  God  has  made  us  only 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE.         K 

"Stewards:  Accordingly  he  kept  good  Orders,  and 
"took  an  Account  of  every  Thing. 

"If  he  was  subject  to  any  Passion,  'twas  Anger ; 
"but  he  had  made  himself  so  much  Master  of  it  by 
"Reason,  that  it  was  very  rarely  troublesome  to  him- 
"self  or  others.  No  Person  cou'd  better  expose  that 
"Passion,  or  make  it  appear  more  ridiculous  than  he. 
"He  wou'd  say,  it  was  of  no  use  either  in  the  edu- 
"cating  Children,  or  keeping  Servants  in  order;  but 
"that  it  did  indeed  make  a  Person  lose  his  Authority. 
"He  was  very  kind  to  his  Servants,  and  would  take 
"the  trouble  to  instruct  them  with  a  great  deal  of 
"Mildness,  after  what  manner  he  expected  to  be  served 
"by  them. 

"He  not  only  faithfully  kept  a  Secret  that  had  been 
"trusted  with  him,  but  wou'd  never  Report  any  thing 
"that  might  prejudice  the  Person  from  whom  he  heard 
"it;  tho'  his  Silence  had  not  been  desired.  Nor  did 
"he  ever  bring  his  Friends  into  any  Inconvenience 
"thro'  his  inadvertency  or  want  of  Discretion. 

"He  was  very  exact  to  his  Word,  and  religiously 
"performed  whatever  he  promis'd.  He  was  very  scru- 
pulous of  giving  Recommendations  of  Persons,  whom 
"he  did  not  well  know ;  and  wou'd  by  no  means  com- 
"mend  those,  who  he  thought  did  not  deserve  it:  If 
"he  was  told  that  his  Recommendations  had  not  pro- 
duced the  Effect  expected ;  he  wou'd  say,  The  Reason 
"of  that  was,  because  he  had  never  deceived  any  Per- 
"son,  by  saying  more  than  he  knew;  that  he  never 
"pass'd  his  Word  for  any,  but  such  as  he  believ'd 
"wou'd  answer  the  Character  he  gave  of  'em;  and  that 
"if  he  shou'd  do  otherwise,  his  Recommendations 
"wou'd  be  worth  nothing. 

"His  greatest  Diversion  was  to  Discourse  with  sen- 


lii         THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE. 

"sible  Persons,  of  whose  Conversation  he  was  very 
"desirous.  He  had  all  the  good  Qualities,  that  cou'd 
"render  his  Friendship  pleasant  and  agreeable.  He 
"would  never  Game,  but  out  of  Complaisance.  Altho' 
"being  often  in  Company  with  those  who  used  it,  he 
"cou'd  Play  very  well,  if  he  set  about  it.  But  he  wou'd 
"never  propose  it,  for  he  said  it  was  but  an  Amuse- 
"ment  for  those  who  wanted  Conversation. 

"His  Dress  was  neat,  without  either  Affectation,  or 
"Singularity. 

"He  was  naturally  .very  Active,  and  employ 'd  him- 
"self  as  much  as  his  Health  would  permit.  Sometimes 
"he  pleas'd  himself  with  working  in  a  Garden,  which 
"he  very  well  understood.  He  lov'd  walking,  but  not 
"being  able  to  walk  much  thro'  the  disorder  of  his 
"Lungs,  he  used  to  Ride  on  his  Horse  after  Dinner, 
"and  when  he  cou'd  not  bare  an  Horse,  in  a  Calash. 
"He  always  chose  to  have  Company  with  him.  tho' 
"it  were  but  a  Child,  for  he  took  Pleasure  in  talking 
"with  Children  of  a  good  Education. 

"The  weakness  of  his  Health  was  a  Disturbance  to 
"none  but  himself;  and  one  might  look  on  him  with- 
"out  any  other  concern,  than  that  of  seeing  him  suffer. 
"He  did  not  differ  from  others  in  his  Diet,  but  only 
"in  that  his  ordinary  Drink  was  nothing  but  Water; 
"and  he  thought  that  was  the  means  of  lengthening 
"out  his  Life  to  such  an  Age.  Tho'  he  was  of  so  weak 
"a  Constitution,  and  that  it  was  to  this  that  he  ow'd 
"the  Preservation  of  his  Eye-sight,  which  was  but 
"little  impair'd  when  he  dy'd,  for  he  cou'd  read  by 
"Candle-light  all  sorts  of  Books,  if  they  were  not  of 
"a  very  small  Print,  and  he  never  used  Spectacles. 
"He  had  no  other  Distemper  but  his  Asthma,  except- 
ing that  four  Years  before  his  Death,  he  was  very 


THE  LIFE  AND  CHARACTER  OF  LOCKE.         liii 

"Deaf:  But  it  did  not  last  above  six  Months.  His 
"deafness  depriving  him  of  the  Pleasure  of  Conversa- 
tion ;  in  a  Letter  that  he  then  wrote  to  one  of  his 
"Friends,  he  said  he  did  not  know  but  it  was  better 
"to  be  Blind  than  Deaf.  Otherwise  he  bore  up  under 
"his  Afflictions  very  patiently." 

This  is  a  Picture  of  that  great  Man,  drawn  after  the 
Life  and  wherein  he  is  not  at  all  flatter 'd.  I  wish  it 
were  in  my  Power,  not  only  to  make  his  Memory,  but 
his  Genius  immortal,  by  perswading  all  Students  to 
search  after  Truth,  to  love  it,  and  defend  it  as  he  has 
done.  But  the  reading  of  his  Works  will  do  that  bet- 
ter, than  all  the  Praises  I  can  give  him,  or  all  the 
Arguments  I  can  lay  before  them ;  and  I  am  also  in- 
form'd,  That  he  has  left  behind  him  a  Discourse  of 
the  Right  Method  of  searching  after  Truth:  Which 
will  be  Publish'd  in  a  little  Time.  Henry  Schelte  the 
Bookseller  at  Amsterdam,  will  also  Publish  it  in 
French,  with  his  other  Posthumous  Works. 

I  shall  only  adde,  That  several  Books  have  been 
father'd  on  him,  of  which  he  was  not  the  Author,  and 
that  he  has  left  a  Note  of  those  that  are  his,  but  bear 
not  his  Name,  of  which  we  have  already  spoken.  For 
Instance,  they  made  him  the  Author  of  a  litttle  Eng- 
lish Treatise  of  the  Love  of  God,  which  was  written 
by  a  very  worthy  Person,  and  for  whom  he  had  a 
very  great  Esteem. 

This  Treatise  is  also  Printing  in  French  at  Amster- 
dam, and  will  be  Sold  by  the  aforesaid  Bookseller. 


WRITINGS  OF  LOCKE  IN  ORDER  OF  PUBLI- 
CATION. 

(Adapted  from  Eraser's  "  Locke,"  Appendix.) 

PUBLISHED  DURING  LOCKE'S  RESIDENCE  IN  HOLLAND. 

Contributions  to  the  "  Bibliotheque  Universelle " — 
(a)  Methode  Nouvelle  de  dresser  des  Recueils;  (b) 
Review  of  Boyle's  "  De  Specificorum  Remediorum  cum 
Corpusculari  Philosophia  Concordia";  (c)  Epitome 

of  the  "Essay,"  etc 1686-88 

PUBLISHED  DURING  LOCKE'S  RESIDENCE  IN  LONDON. 

Epistola  de  Tolerantia March  1689 

Translated  by  Popple  in  the  following  summer. 

Two  Treatises  on  Government February  1690 

Essay  concerning  Human  Understanding.     .     .     March  1690 
Second   Letter   for   Toleration October  1690 

PUBLISHED   DURING   LOCKE'S    RESIDENCE   AT   GATES,    BEFORE 
THE  COMMISSIONERSHIP. 

Some  Considerations  on  the  Consequence  of  Lowering 
the  Rate  of  Interest  and  Raising  the  Value  of  Money.  1691 

A  Third  Letter  of  Toleration 1692 

Some  Thoughts  concerning  Education  (dedicated  to 
Clarke  of  Chipley) July  1693 

Second  Edition  of  the  Essay  concerning  Human  Under- 
standing   :  .  .  .  .  1694 

Third  Edition  of  the  Essay 1695 

For  Encouraging  the  Coining  of  Silver  Money,  and 
after  for  keeping  it  here 1695 

Further  Considerations  concerning  Raising  the  Value 
of  Money 1695 

The  Reasonableness  of  Christianity  as  delivered  in  the 
Scriptures June  1695 


Ivi  WRITINGS  OF  LOCKE. 

A   Vindication    of   the    Reasonableness    of    Christianity 

from  Mr.  Edwards'  Reflections 1695 

PUBLISHED   DURING   LOCKE'S   RESIDENCE   AT   GATES,   DURING 
THE  COMMISSIONERSHIP. 

Second  Vindication  of  the  Reasonableness  of  Chris- 
tianity  1697 

A  Letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester  (Stillingfleet) 
concerning  some  Passages  relating  to  Mr.  Locke's 
Essay  of  Human  Understanding  in  a  Late  Discourse 
of  his  Lordship's  in  Vindication  of  the  Trinity.  .  .  1697 

Mr.  Locke's  Reply  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester's  Answer 
to  his  Letter 1697 

Mr.  Locke's  Reply  to  the  Bishop  of  Worcester's  Answer 
to  his  Second  Letter 1699 

Fourth  Edition  of  Essay  Concerning  Human  Under- 
standing  1700 

POSTHUMOUS  WORKS. 

A  Paraphrase  and  Notes  on  the  Epistles  of  St.  Paul 
to  the  Galatians,  First  and  Second  Corinthians,  Ro- 
mans, and  Ephesians.  To  which  is  prefixed  an  Essay 
for  the  Understanding  of  St.  Paul's  Epistles  by  con- 
sulting St.  Paul  himself 1705-7 

A    Discourse   of   Miracles 1706 

A  Fourth  Letter  for  Toleration    (fragment).     .     .     .     1706 
An   Examination   of  Father  Malebranche's   Opinion  of 

Seeing    all    Things    in    God '     .  1706 

The  Conduct  of  the  Understanding 1706 

Memoirs   relating  to  the  Life  of  Anthony,   First  Earl 

of   Shaftesbury 1706 

Some  Familiar  Letters  Between  Mr.  Locke  and  several 

of     his     Friends 1706 

The   Fundamental   Constitutions  of  Carolina.      .     .     .     1720 
Remarks  upon  some  of  Mr.   Norris's  Books,  Wherein 
he  asserts  Father  Malebranche's  Opinion  of  our  See- 
ing all  Things  in  God 1720 

Elements  of  Natural   Philosophy 1720 

Some  Thoughts  concerning  Reading  and  Study  for  a 
Gentleman.  .  . 1720 


WRITINGS  OF  LOCKE.  Ivii 

Rules  of  a  Society  which  met  once  a-week  for  their 
Improvement  in  Useful  Knowledge,  and  for  the  Pro- 
motion of  Truth  and  Christian  Charity 1720 

Letters  ot   Anthony  Collins  and  others 1720 


THE  most  satisfactory  edition  of  the  complete  works  of 
Locke  is  that  of  Bishop  Law,  1777.  The  best  edition  of  the 
"Essay  Concerning  Human  Understanding"  is  that  of  A.  C. 
Fraser  (Clarendon  Press,  1894,  2  volumes).  The  "Essay"  is 
published  also  in  the  Bohn  edition.  The  completest  biog- 
raphy of  Locke  is  that  of  Fox  Bourne  (1876)  ;  reference  may 
be  made  also  to  Leslie  Stephen  in  his  "History  of  English 
Thought  in  the  Eighteenth  Century"  (1876  and  1881),  and  to 
Benjamin  Rand,  "Life,  Unpublished  Letters,  and  Philosophical 
Regimen  of  the  Third  Earl  of  Shaftesbury"  (1900).  For  dis- 
cussions of  Locke's  doctrine,  cf.  the  contemporary  criticism  of 
Henry  Lee :  "Anti-Scepticism,  or  Notes  upon  each  chapter  of 
Mr.  Locke's  Essay"  (1702);  of  Leibniz:  "Nouveaux  Essais 
sur  1'Entendement  Humain"  (published  1765,  translated  by 
Langley,  1896 ;  and  of  Jonas  Proast :  "The  Argument  of  the 
Letter  concerning  Toleration  Considered  and  Answered" 
(1690).  Cf.  also  Cousin,  "Ecole  Sensualiste,  Systeme  de 
Locke"  in  his  "Histoire  de  la  Philosophic  au  XVIII.  Siecle," 
(1829)  ;  Fraser,  "Prolegomena"  to  his  edition  of  the  "Essay," 
and  "Locke"  (Blackwood  Series,  1890)  ;  Drobisch,  "Ueber 
Locke  den  Yorlaufer  Kants,"  Zeitschrift  fur  exakte  Philo- 
sophic, II.  1861 ;  B.  Erdmann,  "Descartes  und  Locke,"  Archiv 
fiir  Geschichte  der  Philosophic,  II.  1888;  and  A.  W.  Moore, 
"The  Functional  versus  the  Representational  Theory  of 
Knowledge  in  Locke's  Essay"  (Chicago,  Univ.  Press,  1902). 


ESSAY 


A  N 


CONCERNING 


In  Four  BOOKS. 


Writtten  by  /  0  H  N  L  0  CK  £,  Gent. 


The  Second  Edition,  with  large  Additions. 


Quani  helium  eft  vette  confiteri  potius  nejcire  quod  nef- 
cias,  cfuam  ijlaejfutientetn  naufeare,  atque  ipfumfibi 
difplicere  !  Cic.  dc  Natur.  Deor.  /.  i. 


LONDON, 

Printed  for  3Wmfl)am  and  3Jo!)n  Cl)U«!)tl,  at  the  Slack 
Swan  in  flW-^o/Zer-^olfc,  and  5>amUCl  ^anfl)ip,  at  the 
S/«/>  in  Corn/ji/7,  near  the  Royal  Excban£et  M  DC  XCIV. 


TO  THE  RIGHT  HONOURABLE 

THOMAS,  EARL  OF  PEMBROKE  AND  MONT- 
GOMERY. 

BARON  HERBERT  OF  CARDIFF,  LORD  ROSS  OF  KENDAL, 
PAR,  FITZHUGH,  MARMION,  ST.  QUINTIN  AND  SHUR- 
LAND;  LORD  PRESIDENT  OF  HIS  MAJESTY'S  MOST 
HONOURABLE  PRIVY  COUNCIL,  AND  LORD  LIEUTENANT 
OF  THE  COUNTY  OF  WILTS,  AND  OF  SOUTH  WALES. 

MY  LORD, 

THIS  treatise,  which  is  grown  up  under  your  lord- 
ship's eye,  and  has  ventured  into  the  world  by  your 
order,  does  now,  by  a  natural  kind  of  right,  come  to 
your  lordship  for  that  protection  which  you  several 
years  since  promised  it.  It  is  not  that  I  think  any 
name,  how  great  soever,  set  at  the  beginning  of  a  book, 
will  be  able  to  cover  the  faults  that  are  to  be  found  in 
it.  Things  in  print  must  stand  and  fall  by  their  own 
worth,  or  the  reader's  fancy.  But,  there  being  nothing 
more  to  be  desired  for  truth  than  a  fair  unprejudiced 
hearing,  nobody  is  more  likely  to  procure  me  that  than 
your  lordship,  who  are  allowed  to  have  got  so  intimate 
an  acquaintance  with  her  in  her  more  retired  recesses. 
Your  lordship  is  known  to  have  so  far  advanced  your 
speculations  in  the  most  abstract  and  general  knowl- 
edge of  things,  beyond  the  ordinary  reach  or  common 
methods,  that  your  allowance  and  approbation  of  the 
design  of  this  treatise  will  at  least  preserve  it  from  be- 

3 


4  THE  EPISTLE  DEDICATORY. 

ing  condemned  without  reading;  and  will  prevail  to 
have  those  parts  a  little  weighed  which  might  other- 
wise, perhaps,  be  thought  to  deserve  no  consideration, 
for  being  somewhat  out  of  the  common  road.  The  im- 
putation of  novelty  is  a  terrible  charge  amongst  those 
who  judge  of  men's  heads,  as  they  do  of  their  perukes, 
by  the  fashion ;  and  can  allow  none  to  be  right  but  the 
received  doctrines.  Truth  scarce  ever  yet  carried  it  by 
vote  any  where  at  its  first  appearance ;  new  opinions  are 
always  suspected,  and  usually  opposed,  without  and 
other  reason  but  because  they  are  not  already  com- 
mon. But  truth,  like  gold,  is  not  the  less  so  for  being 
newly  brought  out  of  the  mine.  It  is  trial  and  exam- 
ination must  give  it  price,  and  not  any  antique  fashion ; 
and  though  it  be  not  yet  current  by  the  public  stamp, 
yet  it  may,  for  all  that,  be  as  old  as  nature,  and  is  cer- 
tainly not  the  less  genuine.  Your  lordship  can  give 
great  and  convincing  instances  of  this,  whenever  you 
please  to  oblige  the  public  with  some  of  those  large  and 
comprehensive  discoveries  you  have  made  of  truths 
hitherto  unknown,  unless  to  some  few,  from  whom  your 
lordship  has  been  pleased  not  wholly  to  conceal  them. 
This  alone  were  a  sufficient  reason,  were  there  no  other, 
why  I  should  dedicate  this  Essay  to  your  lordship ;  and 
its  having  some  little  correspondence  with  some  parts 
of  that  nobler  and  vast  system  of  the  sciences  your 
lordship  has  made  so  new,  exact,  and  instructive  a 
draught  of,  I  think  it  glory  enough  if  your  lordship 
permit  me  to  boast  that  here  and  there  I  have  fallen 
into  some  thoughts  not  wholly  different  from  yours. 
If  your  lordship  think  fit,  that,  by  your  encouragement, 
this  should  appear  in  the  world,  I  hope  it  may  be  a 
reason,  some  time  or  other,  to  lead  your  lordship  far- 
ther ;  and  you  will  allow  me  to  say,  that  you  here  give 


THE  EPISTLE  DEDICATORY.  5 

the  world  an  earnest  of  something,  that,  if  they  can 
bear  with  this,  will  be  truly  worth  their  expectation. 
This,  my  lord,  shows  what  a  present  I  here  make  to 
your  lordship;  just  such  as  the  poor  man  does  to  his 
rich  and  great  neighbour,  by  whom  the  basket  of  flow- 
ers or  fruit  is  not  ill  taken,  though  he  has  more  plenty 
of  his  own  growth,  and  in  much  greater  perfection. 
Worthless  things  receive  a  value  when  they  are  made 
the  offerings  of  respect,  esteem,  and  gratitude;  these 
you  have  given  me  so  mighty  and  peculiar  reasons  to 
have  in  the  highest  degree  for  your  lordship,  that  if 
they  can  add  a  price  to  what  they  go  along  with  pro- 
portionable to  their  own  greatness,  I  can  with  confi- 
dence brag,  I  here  make  your  lordship  the  richest  pres- 
ent you  ever  received.  This  I  am  sure,  I  am  under  the 
greatest  obligation  to  seek  all  occasions  to  acknowledge 
a  long  train  of  favours  I  have  received  from  your  lord- 
ship; favours,  though  great  and  important  in  them- 
selves, yet  made  much  more  so  by  the  forwardness, 
concern,  and  kindness,  and  other  obliging  circum- 
stances, that  never  failed  to  accompany  them.  To  all 
this,  you  are  pleased  to  add  that  which  gives  yet  more 
weight  and  relish  to  all  the  rest ;  you  vouchsafe  to  con- 
tinue me  in  some  degrees  of  your  esteem,  and  allow  me 
a  place  in  your  good  thoughts,  I  had  almost  said  friend- 
ship. This,  my  lord,  your  words  and  actions  so  con- 
stantly show  on  all  occasions,  even  to  others  when  I  am 
absent,  that  it  is  not  vanity  in  me  to  mention  what  every 
body  knows;  but  it  would  be  want  of  good  manners 
not  to  acknowledge  what  so  many  are  witnesses  of,  and 
every  day  tell  me  I  am  indebted  to  your  lordship  for. 
I  wish  they  could  as  easily  assist  my  gratitude,  as  they 
convince  me  of  the  great  and  growing  engagements  it 
has  to  your  lordship.  This  I  am  sure,  I  should  write 


6  THE  EPISTLE  DEDICATORY. 

of  the  UNDERSTANDING  without  having  any,  if  I  were 
not  extremely  sensible  of  them,  and  did  not  lay  hold 
on  this  opportunity  to  testify  to  the  world  how  much  I 
am  obliged  to  be,  and  how  much  I  am, 
MY  LORD, 

Your  lordship's  most  humble 
and  most  obedient  servant, 

JOHN  LOCKE. 
[Dorset  Court,  May  24,  1689.] 


THE 
EPISTLE  TO  THE  READER. 

READER, 

I  HERE  put  into  thy  hands  what  has  been  the  diver- 
sion of  some  of  my  idle  and  heavy  hours ;  if  it  has  the 
good-luck  to  prove  so  of  any  of  thine,  and  thou  hast 
but  half  so  much  pleasure  in  reading  as  I  had  in  writing 
it,  thou  wilt  as  little  think  thy  money,  as  I  do  my  pains, 
ill  bestowed.  Mistake  not  this  for  a  commendation  of 
my  work ;  nor  conclude,  because  I  was  pleased  with  the 
doing  of  it,  that  therefore  I  am  fondly  taken  with  it 
now  it  is  done.  He  that  hawks  at  larks  and  sparrows, 
has  no  less  sport,  though  a  much  less  considerable 
quarry,  than  he  that  flies  at  nobler  game:  and  he  is 
little  acquainted  with  the  subject  of  this  treatise,  the 
Understanding,  who  does  not  know,  that  as  it  is  the 
most  elevated  faculty  of  the  soul,  so  it  is  employed  with 
a  greater  and  more  constant  delight  than  any  of  the 
other.  Its  searches  after  truth  are  a  sort  of  hawking 
and  hunting,  wherein  the  very  pursuit  makes  a  great 
part  of  the  pleasure.  Every  step  the  mind  takes  in  its 
progress  towards  knowledge  makes  some  discovery, 
which  is  not  only  new,  but  the  best,  too,  for  the  time  at 
least. 

For  the  understanding,  like  the  eye,  judging  of  ob- 
jects only  by  its  own  sight,  cannot  but  be  pleased  with 
what  it  discovers,  having  less  regret  for  what  has  es- 
caped it,  because  it  is  unknown.  Thus  he  who  has 

7 


8  THE  EPISTLE  TO  THE  READER. 

raised  himself  above  the  alms-basket,  and  not  content 
to  live  lazily  on  scraps  of  begged  opinions,  sets  his  own 
thoughts  on  work,  to  find  and  follow  truth,  will  (what- 
ever he  lights  on)  not  miss  the  hunter's  satisfaction; 
every  moment  of  his  pursuit  will  reward  his  pains  with 
some  delight,  and  he  will  have  reason  to  think  his  time 
not  ill  spent,  even  when  he  cannot  much  boast  of  any 
great  acquisition. 

This,  reader,  is  the  entertainment  of  those  who  let 
loose  their  own  thoughts,  and  follow  them  in  writing ; 
which  thou  oughtest  not  to  envy  them,  since  they  afford 
thee  an  opportunity  of  the  like  diversion,  if  thou  wilt 
make  use  of  thy  own  thoughts  in  reading.  It  is  to 
them,  if  they  are  thy  own,  that  I  refer  myself;  but  if 
they  are  taken  upon  trust  from  others,  it  is  no  great 
matter  what  they  are,  they  not  following  truth,  but 
some  meaner  consideration;  and  it  is  not  worth  while 
to  be  concerned  what  he  says  or  thinks,  who  say  or 
thinks  only  as  he  is  directed  by  another.  If  thou 
judgest  for  thyself,  I  know  thou  wilt  judge  candidly ; 
and  then  I  shall  not  be  harmed  or  offended,  whatever 
be  the  censure.  For,  though  it  be  certain  that  there  is 
nothing  in  this  treatise  of  the  truth  whereof  I  am  not 
fully  persuaded,  yet  I  consider  myself  as  liable  to  mis- 
takes as  I  can  think  thee ;  and  know  that  this  book  must 
stand  or  fall  with  thee,  not  by  any  opinion  I  have  of  it, 
but  thy  own.  If  thou  findest  little  in  it  new  or  instruc- 
tive to  thee,  thou  art  not  to  blame  me  for  it.  It  was 
not  meant  for  those  that  had  already  mastered  this  sub- 
ject, and  made  a  thorough  acquaintance  with  their  own 
understandings,  but  for  my  own  information,  and  the 
satisfaction  of  a  few  friends,  who  acknowledged  them- 
selves not  to  have  sufficiently  considered  it. 

Were  it  fit  to  trouble  thee  with  the  history  of  this 


THE  EPISTLE  TO  THE  READER.  9 

Essay,  I  should  tell  thee,  that  five  or  six  friends,  meet- 
ing at  my  chamber,  and  discoursing  on  a  subject  very 
remote  from  this,  found  themselves  quickly  at  a  stand 
by  the  difficulties  that  rose  on  every  side.  After  we  had 
awhile  puzzled  ourselves,  without  coming  any  nearer  a 
resolution  of  those  doubts  which  perplexed  us,  it  came 
into  my  thoughts,  that  we  took  a  wrong  course;  and 
that,  before  we  set  ourselves  upon  inquiries  of  that 
nature,  it  was  necessary  to  examine  our  own  abilities, 
and  see  what  objects  our  understandings  were  or  were 
not  fitted  to  deal  with.  This  I  proposed  to  the  com- 
pany, who  all  readily  assented ;  and  thereupon  it  was 
agreed,  that  this  should  be  our  first  inquiry.  Some 
hasty  and  undigested  thoughts,  on  a  subject  I  had  never 
before  considered,  which  I  set  down  against  our  next 
meeting,  gave  the  first  entrance  into  this  discourse, 
which,  having  been  thus  begun  by  chance,  was  con- 
tinued by  intreaty ;  written  by  incoherent  parcels ;  and, 
after  long  intervals  of  neglect,  resumed  again,  as  my 
humour  or  occasions  permitted ;  and  at  last,  in  a  retire- 
ment, where  an  attendance  on  my  health  gave  me 
leisure,  it  was  brought  into  that  order  thou  now  seest 
it. 

This  discontinued  way  of  writing  may  have  oc- 
casioned, besides  others,  two  contrary  faults,  viz.,  that 
too  little  and  too  much  may  be  said  in  it.  If  thou 
findest  any  thing  wanting,  I  shall  be  glad,  that  what  I 
have  writ  gives  thee  any  desire  that  I  should  have  gone 
farther :  if  it  seems  too  much  to  thee,  thou  must  blame 
the  subject ;  for  when  I  first  put  pen  to  paper,  I  thought 
all  I  should  have  to  say  on  this  matter  would  have  been 
contained  in  one  sheet  of  paper ;  but  the  farther  I  went, 
the  larger  prospect  I  had :  new  discoveries  led  me  still 
on,  and  so  it  grew  insensibly  to  the  bulk  it  now  ap- 


10  THE  EPISTLE  TO  THE  READER. 

pears  in.  I  will  not  deny  but  possibly  it  might  be  re- 
duced to  a  narrower  compass  than  it  is ;  and  that  some 
parts  of  it  might  be  contracted :  the  way  it  has  been 
writ  in,  by  catches,  and  many  long  intervals  of  inter- 
ruption, being  apt  to  cause  some  repetitions.  But,  to 
confess  the  truth,  I  am  now  too  lazy  or  too  busy  to 
make  it  shorter. 

I  am  not  ignorant  how  little  I  herein  consult  my  own 
reputation  when  I  knowingly  let  it  go  with  a  fault  so 
apt  to  disgust  the  most  judicious,  who  are  always  the 
nicest  readers.  But  the$r  who  know  sloth  is  apt  to 
content  itself  with  any  excuse,  will  pardon  me,  if  mine 
has  prevailed  on  me  where  I  think  I  have  a  very  good 
one.  I  will  not,  therefore,  allege 'in  my  defence,  that 
the  same  notion,  having  different  respects,  may  be  con- 
venient or  necessary  to  prove  or  illustrate  several  parts 
of  the  same  discourse ;  and  that  so  it  has  happened  in 
many  parts  of  this ;  but,  waiving  that,  I  shall  frankly 
avow,  that  I  have  sometimes  dwelt  long  upon  the  same 
argument,  and  expressed  it  different  ways,  with  a  quite 
different  design.  I  pretend  not  to  publish  this  Essay 
for  the  information  of  men  of  large  thoughts  and  quick 
apprehensions ;  to  such  masters  of  knowledge,  I  profess 
myself  a  scholar,  and  therefore  warn  them  beforehand 
not  to  expect  anything  here  but  what,  being  spun  out  of 
my  own  coarse  thoughts,  is  fitted  to  men  of  my  own 
size,  to  whom,  perhaps,  it  will  not  be  unacceptable  that 
I  have  taken  some  pains  to  make  plain  and  familiar  to 
their  thoughts  some  truths,  which  established  prej- 
udice, or  the  abstractedness  of  the  ideas  themselves, 
might  render  difficult.  Some  objects  had  need  be 
turned  on  every  side ;  and  when  the  notion  is  new,  as  I 
confess  some  of  these  are  to  me,  or  out  of  the  ordinary 
road,  as  I  suspect  they  will  appear  to  others,  it  is  not 


THE  EPISTLE  TO  THE  READER.  n 

one  simple  view  of  it  that  will  gain  it  admittance  into 
every  understanding,  or  fix  it  there  with  a  clear  and 
lasting  impression.  There  are  few,  I  believe,  who  have 
not  observed  in  themselves  or  others,  that  what  in  one 
way  of  proposing  was  very  obscure,  another  way  of 
expressing  it  has  made  very  clear  and  intelligible; 
though  afterward  the  mind  found  little  difference  in  the 
phrases,  and  wondered  why  one  failed  to  be  under- 
stood more  than  the  other.  But  every  thing  does  not 
hit  alike  upon  every  man's  imagination.  We  have  our 
understandings  no  less  different  than  our  palates ;  and 
he  that  thinks  the  same  truth  shall  be  equally  relished 
by  every  one  in  the  same  dress,  may  as  well  hope  to 
feast  every  one  with  the  same  sort  of  cookery;  the 
meat  may  be  the  same,  and  the  nourishment  good,  yet 
every  one  not  be  able  to  receive  it  with  that  seasoning ; 
and  it  must  be  dressed  another  way,  if  you  will  have 
it  go  down  with  some  even  of  strong  constitutions. 
The  truth  is,  those  who  advised  me  to  publish  it,  ad- 
vised me,  for  this  reason,  to  publish  it  as  it  is:  and 
since  I  have  been  brought  to  let  it  go  abroad,  I  desire 
it  should  be  understood  by  whoever  gives  himself  the 
pains  to  read  it.  I  have  so  little  affection  to  be  in 
print,  that  if  I  were  not  flattered  this  Essay  might  be 
of  some  use  to  others,  as  I  think  it  has  been  to  me,  I 
should  have  confined  it  to  the  view  of  some  friends, 
who  gave  the  first  occasion  to  it.  My  appearing  there- 
fore in  print  being  on  purpose  to  be  as  useful  as  I  may, 
I  think  it  necessary  to  make  what  I  have  to  say  as  easy 
and  intelligible  to  all  sorts  of  readers  as  I  can.  And 
I  had  much  rather  the  speculative  and  quick-sighted 
should  complain  of  my  being  in  some  parts  tedious, 
than  that  any  one,  not  accustomed  to  abstract  specula- 


12  THE  EPISTLE  TO  THE  READER. 

tions,  or  prepossessed  with  different  notions,  should 
mistake  or  not  comprehend  my  meaning. 

It  will  possibly  be  censured  as  a  great  piece  of  vanity 
or  insolence  in  me,  to  pretend  to  instruct  this  our  know- 
ing age,  it  amounting  to  little  less  when  I  own  that  I 
publish  this  Essay  with  hopes  that  it  may  be  useful  to 
others.  But  if  it  may  be  permitted  to  speak  freely  of 
those  who,  with  a  feigned  modesty,  condemn  as  use- 
less what  they  themselves  write,  methinks  it  savours 
much  more  of  vanity  or  insolence  to  publish  a  book  for 
any  other  end ;  and  he  fails  very  much  of  that  respect 
he  owes  the  public,  who  prints,  and  consequently  ex- 
pects that  men  should  read,  that  wherein  he  intends  not 
they  should  meet  with  any  thing  of  use  to  themselves 
or  others :  and  should  nothing  else  be  found  allowable 
in  this  treatise,  yet  my  design  will  not  cease  to  be  so ; 
and  the  goodness  of  my  intention  ought  to  be  some 
excuse  for  the  worthlessness  of  my  present.  It  is  that 
chiefly  which  secures  me  from  the  fear  of  censure, 
which  I  expect  not  to  escape  more  than  better  writers. 
Men's  principles,  notions,  and  relishes  are  so  different, 
that  it  is  hard  to  find  a  book  which  pleases  or  dis- 
pleases all  men.  I  acknowledge  the  age  we  live  in  is 
not  the  least  knowing,  and  therefore  not  the  most  easy 
to  be  satisfied.  If  I  have  not  the  good-luck  to  please, 
yet  nobody  ought  to  be  offended  with  me.  I  plainly 
tell  all  my  readers,  except  half  a  dozen,  this  treatise 
was  not  at  first  intended  for  them ;  and  therefore  they 
need  not  be  at  the  trouble  to  be  of  that  number.  But 
yet  if  any  one  thinks  fit  to  be  angry,  and  rail  at  it,  he 
may  do  it  securely ;  for  I  shall  find  som6  better  way  of 
spending  my  time  than  in  such  kind  of  conservation.  I 
shall  always  have  the  satisfaction  to  have  aimed  sin- 
cerely at  truth  and  usefulness,  though  in  one  of  the 


THE  EPISTLE  TO  THE  READER.  13 

meanest  ways.  The  commonwealth  of  learning  is  not 
at  this  time  without  master-builders,  whose  mighty  de- 
signs in  advancing  the  sciences  will  leave  lasting  monu- 
ments to  the  admiration  of  posterity:  but  every  one 
must  not  hope  to  be  a  Boyle  or  a  Sydenharn ;  and  in 
an  age  that  produces  such  masters  as  the  great  Huy- 
genius,  and  the  incomparable  Mr.  Newton,  with  some 
other  of  that  strain,  it  is  ambition  enough  to  be  em- 
ployed as  an  under-labourer  in  clearing  the  ground  a 
little,  and  removing  some  of  the  rubbish  that  lies  in  the 
way  to  knowledge ;  which  certainly  had  been  very  much 
more  advanced  in  the  world,  if  the  endeavours  of  in- 
genious and  industrious  men  had  not  been  much  cum- 
bered with  the  learned  but  frivolous  use  of  uncouth, 
affected,  or  unintelligible  terms  introduced  into  the 
sciences,  and  there  made  an  art  of,  to  that  degree  that 
philosophy,  which  is  nothing  but  the  true  knowledge 
of  things,  was  thought  unfit  or  uncapable  to  be  brought 
into  well-bred  company  and  polite  conversation. 
Vague  and  insignificant  forms  of  speech,  and  abuse  of 
language,  have  so  long  passed  for  mysteries  of  science ; 
and  hard  or  misapplied  words,  with  little  or  no  mean- 
ing, have,  by  prescription,  such  a  right  to  be  mistaken 
for  deep  learning  and  height  of  speculation ;  that  it  will 
not  be  easy  to  persuade  either  those  who  speak  or  those 
who  hear  them,  that  they  are  but  the  covers  of  igno- 
rance, and  hinderance  of  true  knowledge.  To  break 
in  upon  the  sanctuary  of  vanity  and  ignorance,  will  be, 
I  suppose,  some  service  to  human  understanding: 
though  so  few  are  apt  to  think  they  deceive  or  are  de- 
ceived in  the  use  of  words,  or  that  the  language  of  the 
sect  they  are  of  has  any  faults  in  it  which  ought  to  be 
examined  or  corrected,  that  I  hope  I  shall  be  pardoned 
if  I  have  in  the  third  book  dwelt  long  on  this  subject; 


14  THE  EPISTLE  TO  THE  READER. 

and  endeavored  to  make  it  so  plain,  that  neither  the 
inveterateness  of  the  mischief,  nor  the  prevalency  of 
the  fashion,  shall  be  any  excuse  for  those  who  will  not 
take  care  about  the  meaning  of  their  own  words,  and 
will  not  suffer  the  significancy  of  their  expressions  to 
be  inquired  into. 

I  have  been  told  that  a  short  epitome  of  this  treatise, 
which  was  printed  in  1688,  was  by  some  condemned 
without  reading,  because  innate  ideas  were  denied  in 
it;  they  too  hastily  concluding,  that  if  innate  ideas  were 
not  supposed,  there  would  be  little  left  either  of  the 
notion  or  proof  of  spirits.  If  any  one  take  the  like 
offence  at  the  entrance  of  this  treatise,  I  shall  desire 
him  to  read  it  through  ;  and  then  I  hope  he  will  be  con- 
vinced, that  the  taking  away  false  foundations  is  not 
to  the  prejudice,  but  advantage,  of  truth,  which  is  never 
inured  or  endangered  so  much  as  when  mixed  with,  or 
built  on,  falsehood.  In  the  second  edition  I  added  as 
f  olloweth : — 

The  bookseller  will  not  forgive  me,  if  I  say  nothing 
of  this  second  edition,  which  he  has  promised,  by  the 
correctness  of  it,  shall  make  amends  for  the  many  faults 
committed  in  the  former.  He  desires,  too,  that  it 
should  be  known,  that  it  has  one  whole  new  chapter 
concerning  identity,  and  many  additions  and  amend- 
ments in  other  places.  These,  I  must  inform  my 
reader,  are  not  all  new  matter,  but  most  of  them  either 
farther  confirmation  of  what  I  had  said,  or  explications, 
to  prevent  others  being  mistaken  in  the  sense  of  what 
was  formerly  printed,  and  not  any  variation  in  me  from 
it:  I  must  only  except  the  alterations  I  have  made  in 
book  ii.  chap.  xxi. 

What  I  had  there  writ  concerning  "  liberty  "  and  the 
"  will,"  I  thought  deserved  as  accurate  a  review  as  I 


THE  EPISTLE  TO  THE  READER.  15 

was  capable  of:  those  subjects  having  in  all  ages  exer- 
cised the  learned  part  of  the  world  with  questions  and 
difficulties  that  have  not  a  little  perplexed  morality  and 
divinity,  those  parts  of  knowledge  that  men  are  most 
concerned  to  be  clear  in.  Upon  a  closer  inspection  into 
the  working  of  men's  minds,  and  a  stricter  examination 
of  those  motives  and  views  they  are  termed  by,  I  have 
found  reason  somewhat  to  alter  the  thoughts  I  formerly 
had  concerning  that  which  gives  the  last  determination 
to  the  will  in  all  voluntary  actions.  This  I  cannot  for- 
bear to  acknowledge  to  the  world,  with  as  much  free- 
dom and  readiness  as  I  at  first  published  what  then 
seemed  to  me  to  be  right;  thinking  myself  more  con- 
cerned to  quit  and  renounce  any  opinion  ol  my  own, 
than  oppose  that  of  another,  when  truth  appears  against 
it.  For  it  is  truth  alone  I  seek,  and  that  will  always 
be  welcome  to  me,  when  or  from  whence  soever  it 
comes. 

But  what  forwardness  soever  I  have  to  resign  any 
opinion  I  have,  or  to  recede  from  any  thing  I  have 
writ,  upon  the  first  evidence  of  any  error  in  it ;  yet  this 
I  must  own,  that  I  have  not  had  the  good-luck  to  re- 
ceive any  light  from  those  exceptions  I  have  met  with 
in  print  against  any  part  of  my  book ;  nor  have,  from 
any  thing  has  been  urged  against  it,  found  reason  to 
alter  my  sense  in  any  of  the  points  that  have  been  ques- 
tioned. Whether  the  subject  I  have  in  hand  requires 
often  more  thought  and  attention  than  cursory  readers, 
at  least  such  as  are  prepossessed,  are  willing  to  allow ; 
or  whether  any  obscurity  in  my  expressions  casts  a 
cloud  over  it,  and  these  notions  are  made  difficult  to 
others'  apprehensions  in  my  way  of  treating  them ;  so 
it  is,  that  my  meaning,  I  find,  is  often  mistaken,  and  I 


16  THE  EPISTLE  TO  THE  READER. 

have  not  the  good-luck  to  be  every  where  rightly  under- 
stood. 

******** 


BOOK  1. 
CHAPTER  I. 

INTRODUCTION. 

1.  An  inquiry  into  the  understanding,  pleasant  and 
useful. —  Since  it  is  the  understanding  that  sets  man 
above  the  rest  of  sensible  beings,  and  gives  him  all  the 
advantage  and  dominion  which  he  has  over  them,  it  is 
certainly  a  subject,  even  for  its  nobleness,  worth  our 
labour  to  inquire  into.     The  understanding,  like  the 
eye,  whilst  it  makes  us  see  and  perceive  all  other  things, 
takes  no  notice  of  itself ;  and  it  requires  art  and  pains 
to  set  it  at  a  distance,  and  make  it  its  own  object.     But 
whatever  be  the  difficulties  that  lie  in  the  way  of  this 
inquiry,  whatever  it  be  that  keeps  us  so  much  in  the 
dark  to  ourselves,  sure  I  am  that  all  the  light  we  can 
let  in  upon  our  own  minds,  all  the  acquaintance  we 
can  make  with  our  own  understandings,  will  not  only 
be  very  pleasant,  but  bring  us  great  advantage  in  di- 
recting our  thoughts  in  the  search  of  other  things. 

2.  Design. —  This  therefore  being  my  purpose,  to 
inquire  into  the  original,  certainty,  and  extent  of  hu- 
man knowledge,  together  with  the  grounds  and  de- 
grees of  belief,  opinion,  and  assent,  I  shall  not  at  pres- 
ent meddle  with  the  physical  consideration  of  the  mind, 
or  trouble  myself  to  examine  wherein  its  essence  con- 
sists or  by  what  motions  of  our  spirits,  or  alterations 

17 


i8       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

of  our  bodies,  we  come  to  have  any  sensation  by  our 
organs,  or  any  ideas  in  our  understandings;  and 
whether  those  ideas  do,  in  their  formation,  any  or  all 
of  them,  depend  on  matter  or  not :  these  are  speculations 
which,  however  curious  and  entertaining,  I  shall  de- 
cline, as  lying  out  of  my  way  in  the  design  I  am  now 
upon.  It  shall  suffice  to  my  present  purpose,  to  con- 
sider the  discerning  faculties  of  a  man,  as  they  are 
employed  about  the  objects  which  they  have  to  do  with ; 
and  I  shall  imagine  I  have  not  wholly  misemployed 
myself  in  the  thoughts  I  shall  have  on  this  occasion, 
if,  in  this  historical,  plain  method,  I  can  give  any  ac- 
count of  the  ways  whereby  our  understandings  come 
to  attain  those  notions  of  things  we  have,  and  can  set 
down  any  measures  of  the  certainty  of  our  knowledge, 
or  the  grounds  of  those  persuasions  which  are  to  be 
found  amongst  men,  so  various,  different,  and  wholly 
contradictory ;  and  yet  asserted  somewhere  or  other 
with  such  assurance  and  confidence,  that  he  that  shall 
take  a  view  of  the  opinions  of  mankind,  observe  their 
opposition,  and  at  the  same  time  consider  the  fondness 
and  devotion  wherewith  they  are  embraced,  the  resolu- 
tion and  eagerness  wherewith  they  are  maintained,  may 
perhaps  have  reason  to  suspect  that  either  there  is  no 
such  thing  as  truth  at  all,  or  that  mankind  hath  no 
sufficient  means  to  attain  a  certain  knowledge  of  it.  , 

3-N  Method. —  It  is  therefore  worth  while  to  search 
out  the  bounds  between  opinion  and  knowledge,  and 
examine  by  what  measures,  in  things  whereof  we  have 
no  certain  knowledge,  we  ought  to  regulate  our  assent, 
and  moderate  our  persuasions.  In  order  whereunto,  I 
shall  pursue  this  following  method: — 

First.  I  shall  inquire  into  the  original  of  those  ideas, 
notions,  dr  whatever  else  you  please  to  call  them,  which 


INTRODUCTION.  19 

a  man  observes,  and  is  conscious  to  himself  he  has  in 
his  mind;  and  the  ways  whereby  the  understanding 
comes  to  be  furnished  with  them. 

Secondly.  I  shall  endeavour  to  show  what  knowl- 
edge the  understanding  hath  by  those  ideas,  and  the 
certainty,  evidence,  and  extent  of  it. 

Thirdly.  I  shall  make  some  inquiry  into  the  nature 
and  grounds  of  faith  or  opinion ;  whereby  I  mean,  that 
assent  which  we  give  to  any  proposition  as  true,  of 
whose  truth  yet  we  have  no  certain  knowledge :  and 
here  we  shall  have  occasion  to  examine  the  reasons 
and  degrees  of  assent. 

4.  Useful  to  know  the  extent  of  our  comprehension. 
—  If  by  this  inquiry  into  the  nature  of  the  understand- 
ing, I  can  discover  the  powers  thereof,  how  far  they 
reach,  to  what  things  they  are  in  any  degree  pro- 
portionate, and  where  they  fail  us,  I  suppose  it  may 
be  of  use  to  prevail  with  the  busy  mind  of  man  to  be 
more  cautious  in  meddling  with  things  exceeding  its 
comprehension,  to  stop  when  it  is  at  the  utmost  extent 
of  its  tether,  and  to  sit  down  in  a  quiet  ignorance  of 
those  things  which,  upon  examination,  are  found  to 
be  beyond  the  reach  of  our  capacities.  We  should  not 
then,  perhaps,  be  so  forward,  out  of  an  affectation  of  an 
universal  knowledge,  to  raise  questions,  and  perplex 
ourselves  and  others  with  disputes,  about  things  to 
which  our  understandings  are  not  suited,  and  of  which 
we  cannot  frame  in  our  minds  any  clear  or  distinct  • 
perceptions,  or  whereof  (as  it  has,  perhaps,  too  often 
happened)  we  have  not  any  notions  at  all.  If  we  can 
find  out  how  far  the  understanding  can  extend  its 
view,  how  far  it  has  faculties  to  attain  certainty,  and 
in  what  cases  it  can  only  judge  and  guess,  we  may 


20       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

learn  to  content  ourselves  with  what  is  attainable  by 
us  in  this  state. 

5.     Our  capacity  suited  to  our  state  and  concerns. — 
For  though  the  comprehension  of  our  understandings 
comes  exceeding  short  of  the  vast  extent  of  things, 
yet  we  shall  have  cause  enough  to  magnify  the  bounti- 
ful Author  of  our  being  for  that  proportion  and  de- 
gree of  knowledge  he  has  bestowed  on  us,  so  far  above 
all  the  rest  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  our  mansion. 
Men  have  reason  to  be  well  satisfied  with  what  God 
hath  thought  fit  for  them,  since  he  has  given  them,  as 
St.   Peter  says,  vdvra  irpos  fa^v  K<H  fvcreftuav,  whatso- 
ever is  necessary  for  the  conveniences  of  life,  and  in- 
formation of  virtue;  and  has  put  within  the  reach  of 
their  discovery,  the  comfortable  provision  for  this  life 
and  the  way  that  leads  to  a  better.     How  short  so- 
ever their  knowledge  may  come  of  an  universal  or 
perfect  comprehension  of  whatsoever  is,  it  yet  secures 
their    great    concernments     that     they     have     light 
enough    to    lead    them    to    the    knowledge    of  their 
Maker,    and    the    sight    of    their    own  duties.     Men 
may    find    matter    sufficient    to    busy    their    heads 
and     employ     their     hands     with     variety,     delight, 
and    satisfaction,    if    they    will    not    boldly    quarrel 
with  their  own  constitution,  and  throw  away  the  bless- 
ings their  hands  are  filled  with,  because  they  are  not 
big  enough  to  grasp  every  thing.     We  shall  not  have 
much  reason  to  complain  of  the  narrowness  of  our 
minds,  if  we  will  but  employ  them  about  what  may  be 
of  use  to  us ;  for  of  thai  they  are  very  capable :  and  it 
will  be  an  unpardonable  as  well  as  childish  peevish- 
ness, if  we  undervalue  the  advantages  of  our  knowl- 
edge, and  neglect  to  improve  it  to  the  ends  for  which 
it  was  given  us,  because  there  are  some  things  that 


INTRODUCTION.  21 

are  set  out  of  the  reach  of  it.  It  will  be  no  excuse  to 
an  idle  and  untoward  servant,  who  would  not  attend 
his  business  by  candlelight,  to  plead  that  he  had  not 
broad  sunshine.  The  candle  that  is  set  up  in  us  shines 
bright  enough  for  all  our  purposes.  The  discoveries 
we  can  make  with  this  ought  to  satisfy  us;  and  we 
shall  then  use  our  understandings  right,  when  we  en- 
tertain all  objects  in  that  way  and  proportion  that  they 
are  suited  to  our  faculties,  and  upon  those  grounds 
they  are  capable  of  being  proposed  to  us ;  and  not  per- 
emptorily or  intemperately  require  demonstration,  and 
demand  certainty,  where  probability  only  is  to  be  had, 
and  which  is  sufficient  to  govern  all  our  concernments. 
If  we  will  disbelieve  every  thing  because  we  cannot 
certainly  know  all  things,  we  shall  do  much-what  as 
wisely  as  he  who  would  not  use  his  legs,  but  sit  still 
and  perish  because  he  had  no  wings  to  fly. 

6.  Knowledge  of  our  capacity  a  cure  of  scepticism 
and  idleness. —  When  we  know  our  own  strength,  we 
shall  the  better  know  what  to  undertake  with  hopes  of 
success ;  and  when  we  have  well  surveyed  the  powers 
of  our  own  minds,  and  made  some  estimate  what  we 
may  expect  from  them,  we  shall  not  be  inclined  either 
to  sit  still,  and  not  set  our  thoughts  on  work  at  all,  in 
despair  of  knowing  any  thing;  nor,  on  the  other  side, 
question  every  thing,  and  disclaim  all  knowledge,  be- 
cause some  things  are  not  to  be  understood.  It  is  of 
great  use  to  the  sailor  to  know  the  length  of  his  line, 
though  he  cannot  with  it  fathom  all  the  depths  of  the 
ocean;  it  is  well  he  knows  that  it  is  long  enough  to 
reach  the  bottom  at  such  places  as  are  necessary  to 
direct  his  voyage,  and  caution  him  against  running 
upon  shoals  that  may  ruin  him.  Our  business  here  is 
not  to  know  all  things;  but  those  which  concern  our 


22       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

conduct.  If  we  can  find  out  those  measures  whereby 
a  rational  creature,  put  in  that  state  which  man  is  in 
in  this  world,  may  and  ought  to  govern  his  opinions  and 
actions  depending  thereon,  we  need  not  be  troubled 
that  some  other  things  escape  our  knowledge. 

7.  Occasion  of  this  Essay. —  This  was  that  which 
gave  the  first  rise  to  this  Essay  concerning  the  Under- 
standing. For  I  thought  that  the  first  step  towards 
satisfying  several  inquiries  the  mind  of  man  was  very 
apt -to  run  into,  was,  to  take  a  survey  of  our  own  un- 
derstandings, examine  our  own  powers,  and  see  to 
what  things  they  were  adapted.  Till  that  was  done, 
I  suspected  we  began  at  the  wrong  end,  and  in  vain 
sought  for  satisfaction  in  a  quiet  and  sure  possession 
of  truths  that  most  concerned  us,  whilst  we  let  loose 
our  thoughts  into  the  vast  ocean  of  being ;  as  if  all  that 
boundless  extent  were  the  natural  and  undoubted  pos- 
session of  our  understandings,  wherein  there  was  noth- 
ing exempt  from  its  decisions,  or  that  escaped  its  com- 
prehension. Thus  men,  extending  their  inquiries  be- 
yond their  capacities,  and  letting  their  thoughts  wander 
into  those  depths  where  they  can  find  no  sure  footing, 
it  is  no  wonder  that  they  raise  questions  and  multiply 
disputes,  which,  never  coming  to  any  clear  resolution, 
are  proper  only  to  continue  and  increase  their  doubts, 
and  to  confirm  them  at  last  in  perfect  scepticism. 
Whereas,  were  the  capacities  of  our  understandings 
well  considered,  the  extent  of  our  knowledge  once  dis- 
covered, and  the  horizon  found  which  sets  the  bounds 
between  the  enlightened  and  dark  parts  of  things  — 
between  what  is  and  what  is  not  comprehensible  by  us 
—  men  would,  perhaps  with  less  scruple,  acquiesce  in 
the  avowed  ignorance  of  the  one,  and  employ  their 


INTRODUCTION.  23 

thoughts  and  discourse  \vith  more  advantage  and  satis- 
faction in  the  other. 

8.  What  "  idea  "  stands  for. —  Thus  much  I  thought 
necessary  to  say  concerning  the  occasion  of  this  inquiry 
into  human  understanding.  But,  before  I  proceed  on 
to  what  I  have  thought  on  this  subject,  I  must  here, 
in  the  entrance,  beg  pardon  of  my  reader  for  the  fre- 
quent use  of  the  word  "  idea  "  which  he  will  find  in  the 
following  treatise.  It  being  that  term  which,  I  think, 
serves  best  to  stand  for  whatsoever  is  the  object  of  the 
understanding  when  a  man  thinks,  I  have  used  it  to 
express  whatever  is  meant  by  phantasm,  notion,  species, 
or  whatever  it  is  which  the  mind  can  be  employed  about 
in  thinking ;  and  I  could  not  avoid  frequently  using  it. 

I  presume  it  will  be  easily  granted  me,  that  there 
are  such  ideas  in  men's  minds.  Every  one  is  conscious 
of  them  in  himself;  and  men's  words  and  actions  will 
satisfy  him  that  they  are  in  others. 

Our  first  inquiry,  then,  shall  be,  how  they  come  into 

the  mind. 

*  *  *  *  * 


BOOK  II. 

*s 
CHAPTER  I. 

OF   IDEAS   IN   GENERAL,   AND  THEIR  ORIGINAL. 

1.  Idea  is  the  object  of  thinking. —  Every  man  be- 
ing conscious  to  himself,  that  he  thinks,  and  that  which 
his  mind  is  applied  about,  whilst  thinking,  being  the 
ideas  that  are  there,  it  is  past  doubt  that  men  have  in 
their  mind  several  ideas,  such  as  are  those  expressed 
by  the  words,  "  whiteness,  hardness,  sweetness,  think- 
ing, motion,  man,  elephant,  army,  drunkenness,"  and 
others :  it  is  in  the  first  place  then  to  be  inquired,  How 
he  comes  by  them?    I  know  it  is  a  received  doctrine, 
that  men  have  native  ideas  and  original  characters 
stamped  upon  their  minds  in  their  very  first  being. 
This  opinion  I  have  at  large  examined  already;  and, 
I  suppose,  what  I  have  said  in  the  foregoing  book  will 
be  much  more  easily  admitted,  when  I  have  shown 
whence  the  understanding  may  get  all  the  ideas  it  has, 
and  by  what  ways  and  degrees  they  may  come  into  the 
mind ;  for  which  I  shall  appeal  to  every  one's  own  ob- 
servation and  experience. 

2.  All  ideas  come  from  sensation  or  reflection. — 
Let  us  then  suppose  the  mind  to  be,  as  we  say,  white 
paper,  void  of  all  characters,  without  any  ideas;  how 
comes  it  to  be  furnished?    Whence  comes  it  by  that 
vast  store,  which  the  busy  and  boundless  fancy  of  man 

25 


26       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

has  painted  on  it  with  an  almost  endless  variety? 
Whence  has  it  all  the  materials  of  reason  and  knowl- 
edge? To  this  I  answer,  in  one  word,  From  expe- 
rience ;  in  that  all  our  knowledge  is  founded,  and  from 
that  it  ultimately  derives  itself.  Our  observation,  em- 
ployed either  about  external  sensible  objects,  or  about 
the  internal  operations  of  our  minds,  perceived  and 
reflected  on  by  ourselves,  is  that  which  supplies  our 
understandings  with  all  the  materials  of  thinking. 
These  two  are  the  fountains  of  knowledge,  from 
whence  all  the  ideas  we  have,  or  can  naturally  have,  do 
spring. 

3.  The  object  of  sensation  one  source  of  ideas. — 
First.  Our  senses,  conversant  about  particular  sen- 
sible objects,  do  convey  into  the  mind  several  distinct 
perceptions  of  things,  according  to  those  various  ways 
wherein  those  objects  do  affect  them ;  and  thus  we 
come  by  those  ideas  we  have  of  yellow,  white,  heat, 
cold,  soft,  hard,  bitter,  sweet,  and  all  those  which  we 
call  sensible  qualities  ;  which  when  I  say  the  senses  con- 
vey into  the  mind,  I  mean,  they  from  external  objects 
convey  into  the  mind  what  produces  there  those  per- 
ceptions. This  great  source  of  most  of  the  ideas  we 
have,  depending  wholly  upon  our  senses,  and  derived 
by  them  to  the  understanding,  I  call,  "  sensation." 

4. '  The  operations  of  our  minds  the  other  source  of 
them. —  Secondly.  The  other  fountain,  from  which 
experience  furnisheth  the  understanding  with  ideas,  is 
the  perception  of  the  operations  of  our  own  minds  with- 
in us,  as  it  is  employed  about  the  ideas  it  has  got; 
which  operations  when  the  soul  comes  to  reflect  on  and 
consider,  do  furnish  the  understanding  with  another 
set  of  ideas  which  could  not  be  had  from  things  with- 
out ;  and  such  are  perception,  thinking,  doubting,  be- 


OF  IDEAS  IN  GENERAL.  2-; 

lieving,  reasoning,  knowing,  willing,  and  all  the  dif- 
ferent actings  of  our  own  minds ;  which  we,  being 
conscious  of,  and  observing  in  ourselves,  do  from  these 
receive  into  our  understandings  as  distinct  ideas,  as  we 
do  from  bodies  affecting  our  senses.  This  source  of 
ideas  every  man  has  wholly  in  himself;  and  though  it 
be  not  sense  as  having  nothing  to  do  with  external 
objects,  yet  it  is  very  like  it,  and  might  properly 
enough  be  called  "  internal  sense."  But  as  I  call  the 
other  "  sensation,"  so  I  call  this  "  reflection,"  the  ideas 
it  affords  being  such  only  as  the  mind  gets  by  reflecting 
on  its  own  operations  within  itself.  By  reflection, 
then,  in  the  following  part  of  this  discourse,  I  would 
be  understood  to  mean  that  notice  which  the  mind 
takes  of  its  own  operations,  and  the  manner  of  them, 
by  reason  whereof  there  come  to  be  ideas  of  these 
operations  in  the  understanding.  These  two,  I  say, 
viz.,  external  material  things  as  the  objects  of  sensa- 
tion, and  the  operations  of  our  own  minds  within  as  the 
objects  of  reflection,  are,  to  me,  the  only  originals  from 
whence  all  our  ideas  take  their  beginnings.  The  term 
"  operations  "  here,  I  use  in  a  large  sense,  as  compre- 
hending not  barely  the  actions  of  the  mind  about  its 
ideas,  but  some  sort  of  passions  arising  sometimes  from 
them,  such  as  is  the  satisfaction  or  uneasiness  arising 
from  any  thought. 

5.  All  our  ideas  are  of  the  one  or  the  other  of  these. 
—  The  understanding  seems  to  me  not  to  have  the  least 
glimmering  of  any  ideas  which  it  doth  not  receive  from 
one  of  these  two.  External  objects  furnish  the  mind 
with  the  ideas  of  sensible  qualities,  which  are  all  those 
different  perceptions  they  produce  in  us ;  and  the  mind 
furnishes  the  understanding  with  ideas  of  its  own 
operations. 


?8       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

These,  when  we  have  taken  a  full  survey  of  them, 
and  their  several  modes,  [combinations,  and  relations,] 
we  shall  find  to  contain  all  our  whole  stock  of  ideas ; 
and  that  we  have  nothing  in  our  minds  which  did  not 
come  in  one  of  these  two  ways.  Let  any  one  examine 
his  own  thoughts,  and  thoroughly  search  into  his  un- 
derstanding, and  then  let  him  tell  me,  whether  all  the 
original  ideas  he  has  there,  are  any  other  than  of  the 
objects  of  his  senses,  or  of  the  operations  of  his  mind 
considered  as  objects  of  his  reflection;  and  how  great 
a  mass  of  knowledge  soever  he  imagines  to  be  lodged 
there,  he  will,  upon  taking  a  strict  view,  see  that  he  has 
not  any  idea  in  his  mind  but  what  one  of  these  two 
have  imprinted,  though  perhaps  with  infinite  variety 
compounded  and  enlarged  by  the  understanding,  as  we 
shall  see  hereafter. 

6.  Observable  in  children. —  He  that  attentively 
considers  the  state  of  a  child  at  his  first  coming  into 
the  world,  will  have  little  reason  to  think  him  stored 
with  plenty  of  ideas  that  are  to  be  the  matter  of  his 
future  knowledge.  It  is  by  degrees  he  comes  to  be 
furnished  with  them ;  and  though  the  ideas  of  obvious 
and  familiar  qualities  imprint  themselves  before  the 
memory  begins  to  'keep  a  register  of  time  or  order, 
yet  it  is  often  so  late  before  some  unusual  qualities 
come  in  the  way,  that  there  are  few  men  that  cannot 
recollect  the  beginning  of  their  acquaintance  with 
them:  and,  if  it  were  worth  while,  no  doubt  a  child 
might  be  so  ordered  as  to  have  but  a  very  few  even  of 
the  ordinary  ideas  till  he  were  grown  up  to  a  man. 
But  all  that  are  born  into  the  world  being  surrounded 
with  bodies  that  perpetually  and  diversely  affect  them, 
variety  of  ideas,  whether  care  be  taken  about  it  or  not, 
are  imprinted  on  the  minds  of  children.  Light  and 


OF  IDEAS  IN  GENERAL.  29 

colours  are  busy  at  hand  every  where  when  the  eye 
is  but  open ;  sounds  and  some  tangible  qualities  fail  not 
to  solicit  their  proper  sense's,  and  force  an  entrance 
to  the  mind ;  but  yet  I  think  it  will  be  granted  easily, 
that  if  a  child  were  kept  in  a  place  where  he  never  saw 
any  other  but  black  and  white  till  he  were  a  man,  he 
would  have  no  more  ideas  of  scarlet  or  green  than  he 
that  from  his  childhood  never  tasted  an  oyster  or  a 
pine-apple  has  of  those  particular  relishes. 

7.  Men  are  differently  furnished  with  these  accord- 
ing to  the  different  objects  they  converse  with. —  Men 
then  come  to  be  furnished  with  fewer  or  more  simple 
ideas  from  without,  according  as  the  objects  they  con- 
verse with  afford  greater  or  less  variety ;  and  from  the 
operations  of  their  minds  within,  according  as  they 
more  or  less  reflect  on  them.     For,  though  he  that  con- 
templates the  operations  of  his  mind  cannot  but  have 
plain  and  clear  ideas  of  them ;  yet,  unless  he  turn  his 
thoughts  that  way,  and  considers  them  attentively,  he 
will  no  more  have  clear  and  distinct  ideas  of  all  the 
operations  of  his  mind,  and  all  that  may  be  observed 
therein,  than  he  will  have  all  the  particular  ideas  of 
any  landscape,  or  of  the  parts  and  motions  of  a  clock, 
who  will  not  turn  his  eyes  to  it,  and  with  attention 
heed  all  the  parts  of  it.     The  picture  or  clock  may  be 
so  placed,  that  they  may  come  in  his  way  every  day; 
but  yet  he  will  have  but  a  confused  idea  of  all  the  parts 
they  are  made  of,  till  he  applies  himself  with  attention 
to  consider  them  each  in  particular. 

8.  Ideas  of  reflection  later,  because  they  need  atten- 
tion.—  And  hence  we  see  the  reason  why  it  is  pretty 
late  before  most  children  get  ideas  of  the  operations 
of  their  own  minds ;  and  some  have  not  any  very  clear 
or  perfect  ideas  of  the  greatest  part  of  them  all  their 


30       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

lives :  —  because,  though  they  pass  there  continually, 
yet  like  floating-  visions,  they  make  not  deep  impres- 
sions enough  to  leave  in  the  mind,  clear,  distinct,  last- 
ing ideas,  till  the  understanding  turns  inwards  upon 
itself,  reflects  on  its  own  operations,  and  makes  them 
the  objects  of  its  own  contemplation.  Children,  when 
they  come  first  into  it,  are  surrounded  with  a  world  of 
new  things,  which,  by  a  constant  solicitation  of  their 
senses,  draw  the  mind  constantly  to  them,  forward  to 
take  notice  of  new,  and  apt  to  be  delighted  with  the 
variety  of  changing  objects.  Thus  the  first  years  are 
usually  employed  and  diverted  in  looking  abroad. 
Men's  business  in  them  is  to  acquaint  themselves  with 
what  is  to  be  found  without ;  and  so,  growing  up  in  a 
constant  attention  to  outward  sensations,  seldom  make 
any  considerable  reflection  on  what  passes  within  them 
till  they  come  to  be  of  riper  years;  and  some  scarce 
ever  at  all. 

9.  The  soul  begins  to  have  ideas  when  it  begins  to 
perceive. — To  ask,  at  what  time  a  man  has  first  any 
ideas,  is  to  ask  when  he  begins  to  perceive ;  having 
ideas,  and  perception,  being  the  same  thing.     I  know 
it  is  an  opinion,  that  the  soul  always  thinks ;  and  that 
it  has  the  actual  perception  of  ideas  in  itself  con- 
stantly, as  long  as  it  exists ;  and  that  actual  thinking  is 
as  inseparable  from  the  soul,  as  actual  extension  is 
from  the  body :  which  if  true,  to  inquire  after  the  be- 
ginning of  a  man's  ideas  is  the  same  as  to  inquire  after 
the  beginning  of  his  soul.     For  by  this  account,  soul 
and  its  ideas,  as  body  and  its  extension,  will  begin  to 
exist  both  at  the  same  time. 

10.  The  soul  thinks  not  always;  for  this  wants 
proofs. —  But  whether  the  soul  be  supposed  to  exist 
antecedent  to,  or  coeval  with,  or  some  time  after,  the 


OF  IDEAS  IN  GENERAL.  31 

first  rudiments  or  organization,  or  the  beginnings  of 
life  in  the  body,  I  leave  to  be  disputed  by  those  who 
have  better  thought  of  that  matter.  I  confess  myself 
to  have  one  of  those  dull  souls  that  doth  not  perceive 
itself  always  to  contemplate  ideas ;  nor  can  conceive  it 
any  more  necessary  for  the  soul  always  to  think,  than 
for  the  body  always  to  move;  the  perception  of  ideas 
being,  as  I  conceive,  to  the  soul,  what  motion  is  to  the 
body:  not  its  essence,  but  one  of  its  operations;  and, 
therefore,  though  thinking  be  supposed  never  so  much 
the  proper  action  of  the  soul,  yet  it  is  not  necessary  to 
suppose  that  it  should  be  always  thinking,  always  in 
action:  that,  perhaps,  is  the  privilege  of  the  infinite 
Author  and  Preserver  of  things,  "  who  never  slumbers 
nor  sleeps ;"  but  it  is  not  competent  to  any  finite  being, 
at  least  not  to  the  soul  of  man.  We  know  certainly,  by 
experience,  that  we  sometimes  think ;  and  thence  draw 
this  infallible  consequence, —  that  there  is  something  in 
us  that  has  a  power  to  think;  but  whether  that  sub- 
stance perpetually  thinks,  or  no,  we  can  be  no  farther 
assured  than  experience  informs  us.  For  to  say,  that 
actual  thinking  is  essential  to  the  soul  and  inseparable 
from  it,  is  to  beg  what  is  in  question,  and  not  to  prove 
it  by  reason ;  which  is  necessary  to  be  done,  if  it  be  not 
a  self-evident  proposition.  But  whether  this  —  that 
"  the  soul  always  thinks,"  be  a  self-evident  proposition, 
that  everybody  assents  to  on  first  hearing,  I  appeal  to 
mankind.  [It  is  doubted  whether  I  thought  all  last 
night,  or  no ;  the  question  being  about  a  matter  of  fact, 
it  is  begging  it  to  bring  as  a  proof  for  it  an  hypothesis 
which  is  the  very  thing  in  dispute ;  by  which  way  one 
may  prove  any  thing;  and  it  is  but  supposing  that  all 
watches,  whilst  the  balance  beats,  think,  and  it  is  suf- 
ficiently proved,  and  past  doubt,  that  my  watch  thought 


32       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

all  last  night.  But  he  that  would  not  deceive  himself 
ought  to  build  his  hypothesis  on  matter  of  fact,  and 
make  it  out  by  sensible  experience,  and  not  presume  on 
matter  of  fact  because  of  his  hypothesis;  that  is,  be- 
cause he  supposes  it  to  be  so;  which  way  of  proving 
amounts  to  this, —  that  I  must  necessarily  think  all  last 
night,  because  another  supposes  I  always  think,  though 
I  myself  cannot  perceive  that  I  always  do  so. 

But  men  in  love  with  their  opinions  may  not  only 
suppose  what  is  in  question,  but  allege  wrong  matter 
of  fact.  How  else  could  any  one  make  it  an  inference 
of  mine,  that  a  thing  is  not,  because  we  are  not  sensible 
of  it  in  our  sleep  ?  I  do  not  say,  there  is  no  soul  in  a 
man  because  he  is  not  sensible  of  it  in  his  sleep ;  but  I 
do  say,  he  cannot  think  at  any  time,  waking  or  sleeping, 
without  being  sensible  of  it.  Our  being  sensible  of  it 
is  not  necessary  to  any  thing  but  to  our  thoughts ;  and 
to  them  it  is,  and  to  them  it  will  always  be,  necessary, 
till  we  can  think  without  being  conscious  of  it.] 

ii.  It  is  not  akvays  conscious  of  it. —  I  grant  that 
the  soul  in  a  waking  man  is  never  without  thought,  be- 
cause it  is  the  condition  of  being  awake;  but  whether 
sleeping  without  dreaming  be  not  an  affection  of  the 
whole  man,  mind  as  well  as  body,  may  be  worth  a  wak- 
ing man's  consideration ;  it  being  hard  to  conceive  that 
any  thing  should  think  and  not  be  conscious  of  it.  If 
the  soul  doth  think  in  a  sleeping  man  without  being 
conscious  of  it,  I  ask,  whether,  during  such  thinking,  it 
has  any  pleasure  or  pain,  or  be  capable  of  happiness  or 
misery?  I  am  sure  the  man  is  not,  no  more  than  the 
bed  or  earth  he  lies  on.  For  to  be  happy  or  miserable 
without  being  conscious  of  it,  seems  to  me  utterly  in- 
consistent and  impossible.  Or  if  it  be  possible  that  the 
soul  can,  whilst  the  body  is  sleeping,  have  its  thinking, 


OF  IDEAS  IN  GENERAL.  33 

enjoyments,  and  concerns,  its  pleasure  or  pain,  apart, 
which  the  man  is  not  conscious  of,  nor  partakes  in,  it  is 
certain  that  Socrates  asleep  and  Socrates  awake  is  not 
the  same  person;  but  his  soul  when  he  sleeps,  and 
Socrates  the  man,  consisting  of  body  and  soul,  when  he 
is  waking,  are  two  persons ;  since  waking  Socrates  has 
no  knowledge  of,  or  concernment  for  that  happiness  or 
misery  of  his  soul,  which  it  enjoys  alone  by  itself  whilst 
he  sleeps,  without  perceiving  any  thing  of  it,  no  more 
than  he  has  for  the  happiness  or  misery  of  a  man  in  the 
Indies,  whom  he  knows  not.  For  if  we  take  wholly 
away  all  consciousness  of  our  actions  and  sensations, 
especially  of  pleasure  and  pain,  and  the  concernment 
that  accompanies  it,  it  will  be  hard  to  know  wherein  to 
place  personal  identity. 


CHAPTER  II. 

OF  SIMPLE  IDEAS. 

I.  Uncompounded  appearances. —  The  better  to  un- 
derstand the  nature,  manner,  and  extent  of  our  knowl- 
edge, one  thing  is  carefully  to  be  observed  concerning 
the  ideas  we  have ;  and  that  is,  that  some  of  them  are 
simple,  and  some  complex. 

Though  the  qualities  that  affect  our  senses  are,  in 
the  things  themselves,  so  united  and  blended  that  there 
is  no  separation,  no  distance  between  them ;  yet  it  is 
plain  the  ideas  they  produce  in  the  mind  enter  by  the 
senses  simple  and  unmixed.  For  though  the  sight  and 
touch  often  take  in  from  the  same  object,  at  the  same 
time,  different  ideas  —  as  a  man  sees  at  once  motion  and 


34       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

colour,  the  hand  feels  softness  and  warmth  in  the  same 
piece  of  wax  —  yet  the  simple  ideas  thus  united  in  the 
same  subject  are  as  perfectly  distinct  as  those  that  come 
in  by  different  senses ;  the  coldness  and  hardness  which 
a  man  feels  in  a  piece  of  ice  being  as  distinct  ideas  in 
the  mind  as  the  smell  and  whiteness  of  a  lily,  or  as  the 
taste  of  sugar  and  smell  of  a  rose :  and  there  is  nothing 
can  be  plainer  to  a  man  than  the  clear  and  distinct  per- 
ception he  has  of  those  simple  ideas ;  which,  being  each 
in  itself  uncompounded,  contains  in  it  nothing  but  one 
uniform  appearance  or  conception  in  the  mind,  and  is 
not  distinguishable  into  different  ideas. 

2.  The  mind  can  neither  make  nor  destroy  them. — 
These  simple  ideas,  the  materials  of  all  our  knowledge, 
are  suggested  and  furnished  to  the  mind  only  by  those 
two  ways  above  mentioned,  viz.,  sensation  and  reflec- 
tion. When  the  understanding  is  once  stored  with 
these  simple  ideas,  it  has  the  power  to  repeat,  compare, 
and  unite  them,  even  to  an  almost  infinite  variety,  and 
so  can  make  at  pleasure  new  complex  ideas.  But  it  is 
not  in  the  power  of  the  most  exalted  wit  or  enlarged 
understanding,  by  any  quickness  or  variety  of  thought, 
to  invent  or  frame  one  new  simple  idea  in  the  mind, 
not  taken  in  by  the  ways  before  mentioned ;  nor  can  any 
force  of  the  understanding  destroy  those  that  are  there : 
the  dominion  of  man  in  this  little  world  of  his  own 
understanding,  being  much-what  the  same  as  it  is  in 
the  great  world  of  visible  things,  wherein  his  power, 
however  managed  by  art  and  skill,  reaches  no  farther 
than  to  compound  and  divide  the  materials  that  are 
made  to  his  hand  but  can  do  nothing  towards  the  mak- 
ing the  least  particle  of  new  matter,  or  destroying  one 
atom  of  what  is  already  in  being.  The  same  inability 
will  every  one  find  in  himself,  who  shall  go  about  to 


OF  SIMPLE  IDEAS.  35 

fashion  in  his  understanding  any  simple  idea  not  re- 
ceived in  by  his  senses  from  external  objects,  or  by 
reflection  from  the  operations  of  his  own  mind  about 
them.  I  would  have  any  one  try  to  fancy  any  taste 
which  had  never  affected  his  palate,  or  frame  the  idea 
of  a  scent  he  had  never  smelt ;  and  when  he  can  do  this, 
I  will  also  conclude,  that  a  blind  man  hath  ideas  of 
colours,  and  a  deaf  man  true,  distinct  notions  of  sounds. 
3.  This  is  the  reason  why,  though  we  cannot  believe 
it  impossible  to  God  to  make  a  creature  with  other 
organs,  and  more  ways  to  convey  into  the  understand- 
ing the  notice  of  corporeal  things  than  those  five  as 
they  are  usually  counted,  which  he  has  given  to  man ; 
yet  I  think  it  is  not  possible  for  any  one  to  imagine 
any  other  qualities  in  bodies,  howsoever  constituted, 
whereby  they  can  be  taken  notice  of,  besides  sounds, 
tastes,  smells,  visible  and  tangible  qualities.  And  had 
mankind  been  made  with  but  four  senses,  the  qualities 
then  which  are  the  objects  of  the  fifth  sense  had  been 
as  far  from  our  notice,  imagination,  and  conception,  as 
now  any  belonging  to  a  sixth,  seventh,  or  eighth  sense 
can  possibly  be;  which,  whether  yet  some  other 
creatures,  in  some  other  parts  of  this  vast  and  stupen- 
dous universe,  may  not  have,  will  be  a  great  presump- 
tion to  deny.  He  that  will  not  set  himself  proudly  at 
the  top  of  all  things,  but  will  consider  the  immensity  of 
this  fabric,  and  the  great  variety  that  is  to  be  found  in 
this  little  and  inconsiderable  part  of  it  which  he  has  to 
do  with,  may  be  apt  to  think,  that  in  other  mansions  of 
it  there  may  be  other  and  different  intelligible  beings, 
of  whose  faculties  he  has  as  little  knowledge  or  appre- 
hension, as  a  worm  shut  up  in  one  drawer  of  a  cabinet 
hath  of  the  senses  or  understanding  of  a  man ;  such 
variety  and  excellency  being  suitable  to  the  wisdom  and 


36       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

power  of  the  Maker.  I  have  here  followed  the  com- 
mon opinion  of  man's  having  but  five  senses,  though 
perhaps  there  may  be  justly  counted  more;  but  either 
supposition  serves  equally  to  my  present  purpose. 

CHAPTER  III. 

OF   SIMPLE   IDEAS  OF   SENSE. 

I.  Division  of  simple  ideas. —  The  better  to  con- 
ceive the  ideas  we  receive  from  sensation,  it  may  not 
be  amiss  for  us  to  consider  them  in  reference  to  the  dif- 
ferent ways  whereby  they  make  their  approaches  to  our 
minds,  and  make  themselves  perceivable  by  us. 

First,  then,  there  are  some  which  come  into  our 
minds  by  one  sense  only. 

Secondly.  There  are  others  that  convey  themselves 
into  the  mind  by  more  senses  than  one. 

Thirdly.     Others  that  are  had  from  reflection  only. 

Fourthly.  There  are  some  that  make  themselves 
way,  and  are  suggested  to  the  mind,  by  all  the  ways  of 
sensation  and  reflection. 

We  shall  consider  them  apart  under  these  several 
heads. 

i.  There  are  some  ideas  which  have  admittance 
only  through  one  sense,  which  is  peculiarly  adapted  to 
receive  them.  Thus  light  and  colours,  as  white,  red, 
yellow,  blue,  with  their  several  degrees  or  shades  and 
mixtures,  as  green,  scarlet,  purple,  sea-green,  and  the 
rest,  come  in  only  by  the  eyes ;  all  kinds  of  noises, 
sounds,  and  tones,  only  by  the  ears ;  the  several  tastes 
and  smells,  by  the  nose  and  palate.  And  if  these 
organs,  or  the  nerves  which  are  the  conduits  to  convey 
them  from  without  to  their  audience  in  the  brain,  the 


OF  IDEAS  OF  ONE  SENSE.  37 

mind's  presence-room  (as  I  may  so  call  it),  are,  any  of 
them,  so  disordered  as  not  to  perform  their  functions, 
they  have  no  postern  to  be  admitted  by,  no  other  way  to 
bring  themselves  into  view,  and  be  received  by  the 
understanding. 

The  most  considerable  of  those  belonging  to  the 
touch  are  heat,  and  cold,  and  solidity ;  all  the  rest  — 
consisting  amost  wholly  in  the  sensible  configuration, 
as  smooth  and  rough ;  or  else  more  or  less  firm  ad- 
hesion of  the  parts,  as  hard  and  soft,  tough  and  brittle 
—  are  obvious  enough. 

2.  I  think  it  will  be  needless  to  enumerate  all  the 
particular  simple  ideas  belonging  to  each  sense.  Nor 
indeed  is  it  possible  if  we  would,  there  being  a  great 
many  more  of  them  belonging  to  most  of  the  senses 
than  we  have  names  for.  The  variety  of  smells,  which 
are  as  many  almost,  if  not  more,  than  species  of  bodies 
in  the  world,  do  most  of  them  want  names.  Sweet  and 
stinking  commonly  serve  our  turn  for  these  ideas, 
which  in  effect  is  little  more  than  to  call  them  pleasing 
or  displeasing;  though  the  smell  of  a  rose  and  violet, 
both  sweet,  are  certainly  very  distinct  ideas.  Nor  are 
the  different  tastes  that  by  our  palates  we  receive  ideas 
of,  much  better  provided  with  names.  Sweet,  bitter, 
sour,  harsh,  and  salt,  are  almost  all  the  epithets  we  have 
to  denominate  that  numberless  variety  of  relishes  which 
are  to  be  found  distinct,  not  only  in  almost  every  sort 
of  creatures,  but  in  the  different  parts  of  the  same 
plant,  fruit,  or  animal.  The  same  may  be  said  of 
colours  and  sounds.  I  shall  therefore,  in  the  account 
of  simple  ideas  I  am  here  giving,  content  myself  to  set 
down  only  such  as  are  most  material  to  our  present 
purpose,  or  are  in  themselves  less  apt  to  be  taken  notice 
of,  though  they  are  very  frequently  the  ingredients  of 


38       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

our  complex  ideas ;  amongst  which  I  think  I  may  well 
account  "  solidity,"  which  therefore  I  shall  treat  of  in 
the  next  chapter. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

IDEA  OF  SOLIDITY. 

I.     We  receive  this  idea  from  touch. —  The  idea  of 
solidity  we  receive  by  our  touch ;  and  it  arises  from  the 
resistance  which  we  find  in  body  to  the  entrance  of  any 
other  body  into  the  place  it  possesses,  till  it  has  left  it. 
There  is  no  idea  which  we  receive  more  constantly 
from  sensation  than  solidity.     Whether  we  move  or 
rest,  in  what  posture  soever  we  are,  we  always  feel 
something  under  us  that  supports  us,  and  hinders  our 
farther  sinking  downwards;  and  the  bodies  which  we 
daily  handle  make  us  perceive  that  whilst  they  remain 
between  them,  they  do,  by  an  insurmountable  force, 
hinder  the  approach  of  the  parts  of  our  hands  that  press 
them.     That  which  thus  hinders  the  approach  of  two 
bodies,  when  they  are  moving  one  towards  another,  I 
call  "  solidity."     I  will  not  dispute  whether  this  ac- 
ceptation of  the  word  "  solid  "  be  nearer  to  its  original 
signification  than  that  which  mathematicians  use  it  in ; 
it  suffices  that,  I  think,  the  common  notion  of  "  solid- 
ity," will  allow,  if  not  justify,  this  use  of  it ;  but  if  any 
one  think  it  better  to  call  it  "  impenetrability,"  he  has 
my  consent.  Only  I  have  thought  the  term  "  solidity  " 
the  more  proper  to  express  this  idea,  not  only  because 
of  its  vulgar  use  in  that  sense,  but  also  because  it  car- 
ries something  more  of  positive  in  it  than  "  impenetra- 
bility," which  is  negative,  and  is,  perhaps,  more  a  con- 
sequence of  solidity  than  solidity  itself.     This,  of  all 


OF  SOLIDITY.  39 

other,  seems  the  idea  most  intimately  connected  with 
and  essential  to  body,  so  as  nowhere  else  to  be  found  or 
imagined  but  only  in  matter;  and  though  our  senses 
take  no  notice  of  it  but  in  masses  of  matter,  of  a  bulk 
sufficient  to  cause  a  sensation  in  us ;  yet  the  mind,  hav- 
ing once  got  this  idea  from  such  grosser  sensible 
bodies,  traces  it  farther  and  considers  it,  as  well  as 
figure,  in  the  minutest  particle  of  matter  that  can  exist, 
and  finds  it  inseparably  inherent  in  body,  wherever  or 
however  modified. 

2.  Solidity  fills  space. —  This  is  the  idea  which  be- 
longs to  body,  whereby  we  conceive  it  to  fill  space.    The 
idea  of  which  filling  of  space  is,  that  where  we  imagine 
any  space  taken  up  by  a  solid  substance,  we  conceive  it 
so  to  possess  it  that  it  excludes  all  other  solid  sub- 
stances, and  will  for  ever  hinder  any  two  other  bodies, 
that  move  towards  one  another  in  a  straight  line,  from 
coming  to  touch  one  another,  unless  it  removes  from  be- 
tween them  in  a  line  not  parallel  to  that  which  they 
move  in.     This  idea  of  it,  the  bodies  which  we  ordinary 
handle  sufficiently  furnish  us  with. 

3.  Distinct  from  space. —  This  resistance,  whereby 
it  keeps  other  bodies  out  of  the  space  which  it  possesses, 
is  so  great  that  no  force,  how  great  soever,  can  sur- 
mount it.     All  the  bodies  in  the  world,  pressing  a  drop 
of  water  on  all  sides,  will  never  be  able  to  overcome  the 
resistance  which  it  will  make,  as  soft  as  it  is,  to  their 
approaching  one  another,  till  it  be  removed  out  of  their 
way :  whereby  our  idea  of  solidity  is  distinguished  both 
from  pure  space,  which  is  capable  neither  of  resistance 
nor  motion,  and  from  the  ordinary  idea  of  hardness. 
For  a  man  may  conceive  two  bodies  at  a  distance  so  as 
they  may  approach  one  another  without  touching  or 
displacing  any  solid  thing  till  their  superficies  come  to 


40       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

meet ;  whereby,  I  think,  we  have  the  clear  idea  of  space 
without  solidity.  For  (not  to  go  so  far  as  annihilation 
of  any  particular  body),  I  ask,  whether  a  man  cannot 
have  the  idea  of  the  motion  of  one  single  body  alone, 
without  any  other  succeeding  immediately  into  its 
place  ?  I  think  it  is  evident  he  can :  the  idea  of  motion 
in  one  body  no  more  including  the  idea  of  motion  in  an- 
other, than  the  idea  of  a  square  figure  in  one  body  in- 
cludes the  idea  of  a  square  figure  in  another.  I  do  not 
ask,  whether  bodies  do  so  exist,  that  the  motion  of  one 
body  cannot  really  be  without  the  motion  of  another. 
To  determine  this  either  way  is  to  beg  the  question  for 
or  against  a  vacuum.  But  my  question  is,  whether  one 
cannot  have  the  idea  of  one  body  moved,  whilst  others 
are  at  rest  ?  And  I  think  this  no  one  will  deny :  if  so, 
then  the  place  it  deserted  gives  us  the  idea  of  pure 
space  without  solidity,  whereinto  another  body  may 
enter  without  either  resistance  or  protrusion  of  any 
thing.  When  the  sucker  in  a  pump  is  drawn,  the  space 
it  filled  in  the  tube  is  certainly  the  same,  whether  any 
other  body  follows  the  motion  of  the  sucker  or  not :  nor 
does  it  imply  a  contradiction  that  upon  the  motion  of 
one  body,  another  that  is  only  contiguous  to  it  should 
not  follow  it.  The  necessity  of  such  a  motion  is  built 
only  on  the  supposition,  that  the  world  is  full,  but  not 
on  the  distinct  ideas  of  space  and  solidity ;  which  are  as 
different  as  resistance  and  not-resistance,  protrusion 
and  not-protrusion.  And  that  men  have  ideas  of  space 
without  body,  their  very  disputes  about  a  vacuum 
plainly  demonstrate,  as  is  showed  in  another  place. 
4.  From  hardness. —  Solidity  is  hereby  also  differ- 
enced from  hardness,  in  that  solidity  consists  in  re- 
pletion, and  so  an  utter  exclusion  of  other  bodies  out  of 
the  space  it  possesses ;  but  hardness,  in  a  firm  cohesion 


OF  SOLIDITY.  41 

of  the  parts  of  matter,  making-  up  masses  of  a  sensible 
bulk,  so  that  the  whole  does  not  easily  change  its  figure. 
And,  indeed,  hard  and  soft  are  names  that  we  give  to 
things  only  in  relation  to  the  constitutions  of  our  own 
bodies ;  that  being  generally  called  "  hard  "  by  us  which 
will  put  us  to  pain  sooner  than  change  figure  by  the 
pressure  of  any  part  of  our  bodies;  and  that,  on  the 
contrary,  "  soft "  which  changes  the  situation  of  its 
parts  upon  an  easy  and  unpainful  touch. 

But  this  difficulty  of  changing  the  situation  of  the 
sensible  parts  amongst  themselves,  or  of  the  figure  of 
the  whole,  gives  no  more  solidity  to  the  hardest  body 
in  the  world  than  to  the  softest ;  nor  is  an  adamant  one 
jot  more  solid  than  water.  For  though  the  two  flat 
sides  of  two  pieces  of  marble  will  more  easily  approach 
each  other,  between  which  there  is  nothing  but  water 
or  air,  than  if  there  be  a  diamond  between  them ;  yet  it 
is  not  that  the  parts  of  the  diamond  are  more  solid  than 
those  of  water,  or  resist  more,  but  because  the  -parts  of 
water  being  more  easily  separable  from  each  other,  they 
will  by  a  side-motion  be  more  easily  removed  and  give 
way  to  the  approach  of  two  pieces  of  marble:  but  if 
they  could  be  kept  from  making  place  by  that  side- 
motion,  they  would  eternally  hinder  the  approach  of 
these  two  pieces  of  marble  as  much  as  the  diamond ; 
and  it  would  be  as  impossible  by  any  force  to  surmount 
their  resistance,  as  to  surmount  the  resistance  of  the 
parts  of  a  diamond.  The  softest  body  in  the  world  will 
as  invincibly  resist  the  coming  together  of  any  two 
other  bodies,  if  it  be  not  put  out  of  the  way,  but  remain 
between  them,  as  the  hardest  that  can  be  found  or 
imagined.  He  that  shall  fill  a  yielding  soft  body  well 
with  air  or  water  will  quickly  find  its  resistance:  and 
he  that  thinks  that  nothing-  but  bodies  that  are  hard  can 


42       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

keep  his  hands  from  approaching  one  another,  may  be 
pleased  to  make  a  trial  with  the  air  enclosed  in  a  foot- 
ball. [The  experiment  I  have  been  told  was  made  at 
Florence,  with  a  hollow  globe  of  gold  filled  with  water, 
and  exactly  closed,  farther  shows  the  solidity  of  so  soft 
a  body  as  water.  For,  the  golden  globe  thus  filled 
being  put  into  a  press  which  was  driven  by  the  extreme 
force  of  screws,  the  water  made  itself  way  through  the 
pores  of  that  very  close  metal,  and,  finding  no  room  for 
a  nearer  approach  of  its  particles  within,  got  to  the  out- 
side, where  it  rose  like  a  dew,  and  so  fell  in  drops 
before  the  sides  of  the  globe  could  be  made  to  yield  to 
the  violent  compression  of  the  engine  that  squeezed  it.] 
5.  On  solidity  depends  impulse,  resistance,  and  pro- 
trusion.—  By  this  idea  of  solidity  is  the  extension  of 
body  distinguished  from  the  extension  of  space :  the  ex- 
tension of  body  being  nothing  but  the  cohesion  or  con- 
tinuity of  solid,  separable,  movable  parts ;  and  the  ex- 
tension of  space,  the  continuity  of  unsolid,  inseparable, 
and  immovable  parts.  Upon  the  solidity  of  bodies  also 
depends  their  mutual  impulse,  resistance,  and  pro- 
trusion. Of  pure  space,  then,  and  solidity,  there  are 
several  (amongst  which  I  confess  myself  one)  who 
persuade  themselves  they  have  clear  and  distinct  ideas  : 
and  that  they  can  think  on  space  without  any  thing  in 
it  that  resists  or  is  protruded  by  body.  This  is  the  idea ' 
of  pure  space,  which  they  think  they  have  as  clear  as 
any  idea  they  can  have  of  the  extension  of  body ;  the 
idea  of  the  distance  between  the  opposite  parts  of  a 
concave  superficies  being  equally  as  clear  without  as 
with  the  idea  of  any  solid  parts  between ;  and  on  the 
other  side  they  persuade  themselves  that  they  have, 
distinct  from  that  of  pure  space,  the  idea  of  something 
that  fills  space,  that  can  be  protruded  by  the  impulse  of 


OF  SOLIDITY.  43 

other  bodies,  or  resist  their  motion.  If  there  bs  others 
that  have  not  these  two  ideas  distinct,  but  confound 
them,  and  make  but  one  of  them,  I  know  not  how 
men  who  have  the  same  idea  under  different  names,  or 
different  ideas  under  the  same  name,  can  in  that  case 
talk  with  one  another,  any  more  than  a  man  who,  not 
being  blind  or  deaf,  has  distinct  ideas  of  the  colour  of 
scarlet  and  the  sound  of  a  trumpet,  would  discourse 
concerning  scarlet-colour  with  the  blind  man  I  men- 
tion in  another  place,  who  fancied  that  the  idea  of 
scarlet  was  like  the  sound  of  a  trumpet. 

6.  What  it  is. —  If  any  one  asks  me,  what  this  solid- 
ity is,  I  send  him  to  his  senses  to  inform  him :  let  him 
put  a  flint  or  a  football  between  his  hands,  and  then 
endeavor  to  join  them,  and  he  will  know.  If  he 
thinks  this  not  a  sufficient  explication  of  solidity, 
what  it  is,  and  wherein  it  consists,  I  promise  to  tell 
him  what  it  is,  and  wherein  it  consists,  when  he  tells 
me  what  thinking  is,  or  wherein  it  consists ;  or  explains 
to  me  what  extension  or  motion  is,  which  perhaps 
seems  much  easier.  The  simple  ideas  we  have  are  such 
as  experience  teaches  them  us;  but  if,  beyond  that, 
we  endeavour  by  words  to  make  them  clearer  in  the 
mind,  we  shall  succeed  no  better  than  if  we  went  about 
to  clear  up  the  darkness  of  a  blind  man's  mind  by  talk- 
ing, and  to  discourse  into  him  the  ideas  of  light  and 
colours.  The  reason  of  this  I  shall  show  in  another 
place. 

CHAPTER  V. 

OF    SIMPLE    IDEAS    OF    DIVERS    SENSES. 

THE  ideas  we  get  by  more  than  one  sense  are  of 
space  or  extension,  figure,  rest  and  motion :  for  these 


44       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

make  perceivable  impressions  both  on  the  eyes  and 
touch ;  and  we  can  receive  and  convey  into  our  minds 
the  ideas  of  the  extension,  figure,  motion,  and  rest  of 
bodies,  both  by  seeing  and  feeling.  But  by  having  oc- 
casion to  speak  more  at  large  of  these  in  another  place, 
I  here  only  enumerate  them. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

OF  SIMPLE  IDEAS  OF  REFLECTION. 

1.  Simple  ideas  of  re-flection  are  the  operations  of 
the  mind  about  its  other  ideas. —  The  mind,  receiving 
the  ideas  mentioned  in  the  foregoing  chapters  from 
without,  when  it  turns  its  view  inward  upon  itself,  and 
observes  its  own  actions  about  those  ideas  it  has,  takes 
from  thence  other  ideas,  which  are  as  capable  to  be  the 
objects  of  its  contemplation  as  any  of  those  it  received 
from  foreign  things. 

2.  The  idea  of  perception.,  and  idea  of  willing,  we 
have  from  reflection. —  The  two  great  and  principal 
actions  of  the  mind,  which  are  most  frequently  con- 
sidered, and  which  are  so  frequent  that  every  one  that 
pleases  may  take  notice  of  them  in  himself,  are  these 
two:  perception  or  thinking,  and  volition  or  willing. 
[The  power  of  thinking  is  called  "  the  understanding," 
and  the  power  of  volition  is  called  "  the  will ;"  and 
these  two  powers  .or  abilities  in  the  mind  are  denomin- 
ated "  faculties."]     Of  some  of  the  modes  of  these 
simple  ideas  of  reflection,  such  as  are  remembrance, 
discerning,  reasoning,  judging,  knowledge,  faith,  &c., 
I  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  hereafter. 


IDEAS  OF  SENSATION  AND  REFLECTION          45 
CHAPTER  VII. 

OF  SIMPLE  IDEAS  OF  BOTH  SENSATION  AND  REFLECTION. 

1.  Pleasure    and    pain. —  There    be    other    simple 
ideas  which  convey  themselves  into  the  mind  by  all 
the  ways  of  sensation  and  reflection;  viz.,  pleasure  or 
delight,  and  its  opposite,  pain  or  uneasiness;  power, 
existence,  unity. 

2.  Delight  or  uneasiness,   one  or  other  of  them, 
join  themselves  to  almost  all  our  ideas  both  of  sensa- 
tion and  reflection ;  and  there  is  scarce  any  affection  of 
our  senses  from  without,  any  retired  thought  of  our 
mind  within,  which  is  not  able  to  produce  in  us  pleas- 
ure or  pain.     By  "  pleasure  "  and  "  pain,"  I  would 
be  understood  to  signify  whatsoever  delights  or  mo- 
lests us;  whether  it  arises  from  the  thoughts  of  our 
minds,  or  any  thing  operating  on  our  bodies.     For 
whether  we  call  it  "  satisfaction,  delight,  pleasure,  hap- 
piness," &c.,  on  the  one  side ;  or  "  uneasiness,  trouble, 
pain,  torment,   anguish,   misery,"  &c.,  on  the  other; 
they  are  still  but  different  degrees  of  the  same  thing, 
and  belong  to  the  ideas  of  pleasure  and  pain,  delight 
or  uneasiness ;  which  are  the  names  I  shall  most  com- 
monly use  for  those  two  sorts  of  ideas. 

3.  The  infinite  wise  Author  of  our  being  —  hav- 
ing given   us   the  power  over   several   parts  of  our 
bodies,  to  move  or  keep  them  at  rest  as  we  think  fit, 
and  also  by  the  motion  of  them  to  move  ourselves 
and  other    contiguous  bodies,  in  which  consist  all  the 
actions  of  our  body ;  having  also  given  a  power  to  our 
minds,  in  several  instances,  to  choose  amongst  its  ideas 
which  it  will  think  on,  and  to  pursue  the  inquiry  of  this 
or   that   subject   with   consideration   and    attention  — 


46       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

to  excite  us  to  these  actions  of  thinking  and  motion 
that  we  are  capable  of,  has  been  pleased  to  join  to 
several  thoughts  and  several  sensations  a  perception  of 
delight.  If  this  were  wholly  separated  from  all  our 
outward  sensations  and  inward  thoughts,  we  should 
have  no  reason  to  prefer  one  thought  or  action  to 
another,  negligence  to  attention,  or  motion  to  rest :  and 
so  we  should  neither  stir  our  bodies,  nor  employ  our 
minds;  but  let  our  thoughts  (if  I  may  so  call  it)  run 
adrift,  without  any  direction  or  design ;  and  suffer  the 
ideas  of  our  minds,  like  unregarded  shadows,  to  make 
their  appearances  there  as  it  happened,  without  at- 
tending to  them:  in  which  state  man,  however  fur- 
nished with  the  faculties  of  understanding  and  will, 
would  be  a  very  idle,  unactive  creature,  and  pass  his 
time  only  in  a  lazy,  lethargic  dream.  It  has  therefore 
pleased  our  wise  Creator  to  annex  to  several  objects, 
and  to  the  ideas  which  we  receive  from  them,  as  also  to 
several  of  our  thoughts,  a  concomitant  pleasure,  and 
that  in  several  objects  to  several  degrees,  that  those 
faculties  which  he  had  endowed  us  with  might  not 
remain  wholly  idle  and  unemployed  by  us. 

4.  Pain  has  the  same  efficacy  and  use  to  set  us  on 
work  that  pleasure  has,  we  being  as  ready  to  employ 
our  faculties  to  avoid  that,  as  to  pursue  this :  only  this 
is  worth  our  consideration  —  that  pain  is  often  pro- 
duced by  the  same  objects  and  ideas  that  produce 
pleasure  in  us.  This  their  near  conjunction,  which 
makes  us  often  feel  pain  in  the  sensations  where  we 
expected  pleasure,  gives  us  new  occasion  of  admiring 
the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  our  Maker,  who,  design- 
ing the  preservation  of  our  being,  has  annexed  pain  to 
the  application  of  many  things  to  our  bodies,  to  warn 
us  of  the  harm  that  they  will  do,  and  as  advices  to 


IDEAS  OF  SENSATION  AND  REFLECTION.         47 

withdraw  from  them.  But  He,  not  designing  our 
preservation  barely,  but  the  preservation  of  every  part 
and  organ  in  its  perfection,  hath  in  many  cases  an- 
nexed pain  to  those  very  ideas  which  delight  us.  Thus 
heat,  that  is  very  agreeable  to  us  in  one  degree,  by  a 
little  greater  increase  of  it  proves  no  ordinary  tor- 
ment; and  the  most  pleasant  of  all  sensible  objects, 
light  itself,  if  there  be  too  much  of  it,  if  increased 
beyond  a  due  proportion  to  our  eyes,  causes  a  very 
painful  sensation :  which  is  wisely  and  favourably  so 
ordered  by  nature,  that  when  any  object  does  by  the 
vehemency  of  its  operation  disorder  the  instruments 
of  sensation,  whose  structures  cannot  but  be  very  nice 
and  delicate,  we  might  by  the  pain  be  warned  to  with- 
draw before  the  organ  be  quite  put  out  of  order,  and 
so  be  unfitted  for  its  proper  functions  for  the  future. 
The  consideration  of  those  objects  that  produce  it 
may  well  persuade  us,  that  this  is  the  end  or  use  of 
pain :  for  though  great  light  be  insufferable  to  our 
eyes,  yet  the  highest  degree  of  darkness  does  not  at 
all  disease  them,  because  that  causing  no  disorderly  mo- 
tion in  it,  leaves  that  curious  organ  unharmed  in  its 
natural  state.  But  yet  excess  of  cold  as  well  as  heat 
pains  us  because  it  is  equally  destructive  to  that  tem- 
per which  is  necessary  to  the  preservation  of  life,  and 
the  exercise  of  the  several  functions  of  the  body,  and 
which  consists  in  a  moderate  degree  of  warmth,  or,  if 
you  please,  a  motion  of  the  insensible  parts  of  our 
bodies  confined  within  certain  bounds. 

5.  Beyond  all  this,  we  may  find  another  reason 
why  God  hath  scattered  up  and  down  several  degrees 
of  pleasure  and  pain  in  all  the  things  that  environ  and 
affect  us,  and  blended  them  together  in  all  that  our 
thoughts  and  senses  have  to  do  with ;  that  we,  find- 


48       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

ing  imperfection,  dissatisfaction,  and  want  of  com- 
plete happiness  in  all  the  enjoyments  which  the  crea- 
tures can  afford  us,  might  be  led  to  seek  it  in  the 
enjoyment  of  Him  "  with  whom  there  is  fulness  of 
joy,  and  at  whose  right  hand  are  pleasures  for  ever- 
more." 

6.  Pleasure  and  pain. —  Though  what  I  have  here 
said  may  not  perhaps  make  the  ideas  of  pleasure  and 
pain  clearer  to  us  than  our  own  experience  does,  which 
is  the  only  way  that  we  are  capable  of  having  them; 
yet  the  consideration  of  the  reason  why  they  are  an- 
nexed to  so  many  other  ideas,  serving  to  give  us  due 
sentiments  of  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  the  Sov- 
ereign Disposer  of  all  things,  may  not  be  unsuitable 
to  the  main  end  of  these   inquiries:  the  knowledge 
and  veneration  of  Him  being  the  chief  end  of  all  our 
thoughts,  and  the  proper  business  of  all  our  under- 
standings. 

7.  Existence  and  unity. —  Existence  and  unity  are 
two  other  ideas  that  are  suggested  to  the  understand- 
ing by  every  object  without,  and  every  idea  within. 
When  ideas  are  in  our  minds,  we  consider  them  as 
being  actually  there,  as  well  as  we  consider  things 
to  be  actually  without  us :  which  is,  that  they  exist, 
or  have  existence:  and  whatever  we  can  consider  as 
one  thing,  whether  a  real  being  or  idea,  suggests  to 
the  understanding  the  idea  of  unity. 

8.  Power. —  Power  also  is  another  of  those  simple 
ideas  which  we  receive  from  sensation  and  reflection. 
For,  observing  in  ourselves  that  we  do  and  can  think, 
and  that  we  can  at  pleasure  move  several  parts  of  our 
bodies  which  were  at  rest ;  the  effects  also  that  natural 
bodies  are  able  to  produce  in  one  another  occurring 


IDEAS  OF  SENSATION  AND  REFLECTION.        49 

every  moment  to  our  senses,  we  both  these  ways  get  the 
idea  of  power. 

9.  Succession. —  Besides    these    there    is    another 
idea,  which  though  suggested  by  our  senses,  yet  is 
more   constantly   offered   us  by  what  passes   in   our 
minds ;  and  that  is  the  idea  of  succession.     For   if 
we   look   immediately   into  ourselves,   and   reflect   on 
what  is  observable  there,  we  shall  find  our  ideas  al- 
ways, whilst  we  are  awake  or  have  any  thought,  pass- 
ing in  train,  one  going  and  another  coming  without 
intermission. 

10.  Simple  ideas  the  materials  of  all  our  knowl- 
edge.—  These,  if  they  are  not  all,  are  at  least  (as  I 
think)    the  most  considerable  of  those  simple  ideas 
which  the  mind  has,  and  out  of  which  is  made  all  its 
other  knowledge:  all  of  which  it  receives  only  by  the 
two  forementioned  ways  of  sensation  and  reflection. 

Nor  let  any  one  think  these  too  narrow  bounds  for 
the  capacious  mind  of  man  to  expatiate  in,  which  takes 
its  flight  farther  than  the  stars,  and  cannot  be  confined 
by  the  limits  of  the  world;  that  extends  its  thoughts 
often  even  beyond  the  utmost  expansion  of  matter,  and 
makes  excursions  into  that  incomprehensible  inane. 
I  grant  all  this ;  but  desire  any  one  to  assign  any  sim- 
ple idea  which  is  not  received  from  one  of  those 
inlets  before  mentioned,  or  any  complex  idea  not 
made  out  of  those  simple  ones.  Nor  will  it  be  so 
strange  to  think  these  few  simple  ideas  sufficient  to 
employ  the  quickest  thought  or  largest  capacity,  and 
to  furnish  the  materials  of  all  that  various  knowledge 
and  more  various  fancies  and  opinions  of  all  mankind, 
if  we  consider  how  many  words  may  be  made  out  of 
the  various  composition  of  twenty-four  letters ;  or,  if, 
going  one  step  farther,  we  will  but  reflect  on  the  va- 


So       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

riety  of  combinations  may  be  made  with  barely  one 
of  the  above-mentioned  ideas,  viz.,  number,  whose 
stock  is  inexhaustible  and  truly  infinite;  and  what 
a  large  and  immense  field  doth  extension  alone  afford 
the  mathematicians! 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SOME   FARTHER  CONSIDERATIONS  CONCERNING  OUR 
SIMPLE   IDEAS   OF   SENSATION. 

I.  Positive  ideas  from  privative  causes. —  Concern- 
ing the  simple  ideas  of  sensation  it  is  to  be  consid- 
ered, that  whatsoever  is  so  constituted  in  nature  as 
to  be  able  by  affecting  our  senses  to  cause  any  per- 
ception in  the  mind,  doth  thereby  produce  in  the  un- 
derstanding a  simple  idea;  which,  whatever  be  the 
external  cause  of  it,  when  it  comes  to  be  taken  notice 
of  by  our  discerning  faculty,  it  is  by  the  mind  looked 
on  and  considered  there  to  be  a  real  positive  idea  in 
the  understanding,  as  much  as  any  other  whatsoever; 
though  perhaps  the  cause  of  it  be  but  a  privation  in 
the  subject. 

2.  Thus  the  ideas  of  heat  and  cold,  light  and  dark- 
ness, white  and  black,  motion  and  rest,  are  equally 
clear  arid  positive  ideas  in  the  mind;  though  perhaps 
some  of  the  causes  which  produce  them  are  barely 
privations  in  those  subjects  from  whence  our  senses 
derive  those  ideas.  These  the  understanding,  in  its 
view  of  them,  considers  all  as  distinct  positive  ideas 
without  taking  notice  of  the  causes  that  produce 
them;  which  is  an  inquiry  not  belonging  to  the  idea 
as  it  is  in  the  understanding,  but  to  the  nature  of  the 
things  existing  without  us.  These  are  two  very  differ- 


SIMPLE  IDEAS  OF  SENSATION.  51 

ent  things,  and  carefully  to  be  distinguished;  it  being 
one  thing  to  perceive  and  know  the  idea  of  white  or 
black,  and  quite  another  to  examine  what  kind  of 
particles  they  must  be,  and  how  ranged  in  the  super- 
ficies, to  make  any  object  appear  white  or  black. 

3.  A    painter   or    dyer    who   never    inquired    into 
their  causes,  hath  the  ideas  of  white  and  black  and 
other  colours  as  clearly,  perfectly,  and  distinctly  in 
his  understanding,  and  perhaps  more  distinctly  than 
the  philosopher  who  hath  busied  himself  in  considering 
their  natures,  and  thinks  he  knows  how  far  either 
of  them  is  in  its  cause  positive  or  privative;  and  the 
idea  of  black  is  no  less  positive  in  his  mind  than 
that  of  white,  however  the  cause  of  that  colour  in  the 
external  object  may  be  only  a  privation. 

4.  If  it  were  the  design  of  my  present  undertaking 
to  inquire  into  the  natural  causes  and  manner  of  per- 
ception, I  should  offer  this  as  a  reason  why  a  privative 
cause  might,  in  some  cases  at  least,  produce  a  positive 
idea,  viz.,  that  all  sensation  being  produced  in  us  only 
by  different  degrees  and  modes  of  motion  in  our  ani- 
mal  spirits,   variously   agitated   by   external   objects, 
the  abatement  of  any  former  motion  must  as  neces- 
sarily produce  a  new   sensation   as  the  variation  or 
increase  of  it;  and  so  introduce  a  new  idea,  which 
depends   only  on   a  different  motion   of  the  animal 
spirits  in  that  organ. 

5.  But  whether  this  be  so  or  not  I  will  not  here 
determine,  but  appeal  to  every  one's  own  experience, 
whether  the  shadow  of  a  man,  though  it  consists  of 
nothing  but  the  absence  of  light   (and  the  more  the 
absence  of  light  is,  the  more  discernible  is  the  shad- 
ow),  does  not,  when   a  man   looks  on   it,  cause  as 
clear  and  positive  an  idea  in  his  mind  as  a  man  himself, 


52       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

though  covered  over  with  clear  sunshine!  And  the 
picture  of  a  shadow  is  a  positive  thing.  Indeed,  we 
have  negative  names,  [which  stand  not  directly  for 
positive  ideas,  but  for  their  absence,  such  as  insipid, 
silence,  nihil,  &c.,  which  words  denote  positive  ideas, 
v.  g.,  taste,  sound,  being,  with  a  signification  of  their 
absence.] 

6.  Positive  ideas  from  privative  causes. —  And  thus 
one  may  truly  be  said  to  see  darkness.     For,  suppos- 
ing a  hole  perfectly  dark,  from  whence  no  light  is  re- 
flected, it  is  certain  one  may  see  the  figure  of  it,  or  it 
may  be  painted ;  or  whether  the  ink  I  write  with  make 
any  other  idea,  is  a  question.     The  privative  causes 
I  have  here  assigned  of  positive  ideas  are  according  to 
the  common  opinion;  but,  in  truth,  it  will  be  hard  to 
determine  whether  there  be  really  any  ideas  from  a 
privative  cause,  till  it  be  determined  whether  rest  be 
any  more  a  privation  than  motion. 

7.  Ideas  in  the  mind,  qualities  in  bodies. —  To  dis- 
cover the  nature  of  our  ideas  the  better,  and  to  dis- 
course of  them  intelligibly,  it  will  be  convenient  to 
distinguish  them,  as  they  are  ideas  or  perceptions  in 
our  minds,  and  as  they  are  modifications  of  matter  in 
the  bodies  that  cause  such  perceptions  in  us ;  that  so 
we  may  not  think  (as  perhaps  usually  is  done)   that 
they  are  exactly  the  images  and  resemblances  of  some- 
thing inherent  in  the  subject;  most  of  those  of  sensa- 
tion being  in  the  mind  no  more  the  likeness  of  some- 
thing existing  without  us  than  the  names  that  stand 
for  them  are  the  likeness  of  our  ideas,  which  yet  upon 
hearing  they  are  apt  to  excite  in  us. 

8.  Whatsoever  the  mind  perceives  in  itself,  or  is 
the  immediate  object  of  perception,  thought,  or  un- 
derstanding, that   I   call  "  idea ;  "  and  the  power  to 


SIMPLE  IDEAS  OF  SENSATION.  53 

produce  any  idea  in  our  mind,  I  call  "  quality  "  of 
the  subject  wherein  that  power  is.  Thus  a  snowball 
having  the  power  to  produce  in  us  the  ideas  of  white, 
cold,  and  round,  the  powers  to  produce  those  ideas  in 
us  as  they  are  in  the  snowball,  I  call  "  qualities ;  "  and 
as  they  are  sensations  or  perceptions  in  our  under- 
standings, I  call  them  "  ideas ;"  which  ideas,  if  I  speak 
of  them  sometimes  as  in  the  things  themselves,  I 
would  be  understood  to  mean  those  qualities  in  the 
objects  which  produce  them  in  us. 

9.  Primary  qualities. — [Qualities  thus  considered 
in  bodies  are,  First,  such  as  are  utterly  inseparable 
from  the  body,  in  what  estate  soever  it  be ;]  and  such  as, 
in  all  the  alterations  and  changes  it  suffers,  all  the  force 
can  be  used  upon  it,  it  constantly  keeps ;  and  such  as 
sense  constantly  finds  in  every  particle  of  matter  which 
has  bulk  enough  to  be  perceived,  and  the  mind  finds  in- 
separable from  every  particle  of  matter,  though  less 
than  to  make  itself  singly  6e  perceived  by  our  senses : 
v.  g.,  take  a  grain  of  wheat,  divide  it  into  two  parts, 
each  part  has  still  solidity,  extension,  figure,  and  mo- 
bility; divide  it  again,  and  it  retains  still  the  same 
qualities :  and  so  divide  it  on  till  the  parts  become 
insensible,  they  must  retain  still  each  of  them  all  those 
qualities.  For,  division  (which  is  all  that  a  mill  or 
pestle  or  any  other  body  does  upon  another,  in  reduc- 
ing it  to  insensible  parts)  can  never  take  away  either 
solidity,  extension,  figure,  or  mobility  from  any 
body,  but  only  makes  two  or  more  distinct  separate 
masses  of  matter  of  that  which  was  but  one  before ; 
all  which  distinct  masses,  reckoned  as  so  many  distinct 
bodies,  after  division,  make  a  certain  number.  [These 
I  call  original  or  primary  qualities  of  body,  which  I 
think  we  may  observe  to  produce  simple  ideas  in  us, 


54       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

viz.,  solidity,  extension,  figure,  motion  or  rest,  and 
number. 

10.  Secondary  qualities. —  Secondly.  Such  quali- 
ties, which  in  truth  are  nothing  in  the  objects  them- 
selves, but  powers  to  produce  various  sensations  in 
us  by  their  primary  qualities,  i.  e.,  by  the  bulk,  figure, 
texture,  and  motion  of  their  insensible  parts,  as  col- 
ours, sounds,  tastes,  &c.,  these  I  call  secondary  quali- 
ties. To  these  might  be  added  a  third  sort,  which  are 
allowed  to  be  barely  powers,  though  they  are  as  much 
real  qualities  in  the  subject  as  those  which  I,  to  com- 
ply with  the  common  way  of  speaking,  call  qualities, 
but,  for  distinction,  secondary  qualities.  For,  the 
power  in  fire  to  produce  a  new  colour  or  consistency  in 
wax  or  clay,  by  its  primary  qualities,  is  as  much  a 
quality  in  fire  as  the  power  it  has  to  produce  in  me  a 
new  idea  or  sensation  of  warmth  or  burning,  which 
I  felt  not  before,  by  the  same  primary  qualities,  viz., 
the  bulk,  texture,  and  motion  of  its  insensible  parts.] 

n.  [How  primary  qualities  produce  their  ideas. — 
The  next  thing  to  be  considered  is,  how  bodies  produce 
ideas  in  us ;  and  that  is  manifestly  by  impulse,  the  only 
way  which  we  can  conceive  bodies  to  operate  in.] 

12.  If,  then,  external  objects  be  not  united  to  our 
minds  when  they  produce  ideas  therein,  and  yet  we  per- 
ceive these  original  qualities  in  such  of  them  as  singly 
fall  under  our  senses,  it  is  evident  that  some  motion 
must  be  thence  continued  by  our  nerves,  or  animal 
spirits,  by  some  parts  of  our  bodies,  to  the  brains  or  the 
seat  of  sensation,  there  to  produce  in  our  minds  the 
particular  ideas  we  have  of  them.  And  since  the  ex- 
tension, figure,  number,  and  motion  of  bodies  of  an 
observable  bigness,  may  be  perceived  at  a  distance  by 
the  sight,  it  is  evident  some  singly  imperceptible  bod- 


SIMPLE  IDEAS  OF  SENSATION.  55 

ies  must  come  from  them  to  the  eyes,  and  thereby 
convey  to  the  brain  some  motion  which  produces  these 
ideas  which  we  have  of  them  in  us. 

13.  How  secondary. —  After  the  same  manner  that 
the  ideas  of  these  original  qualities  are  produced  in  us, 
we  may  conceive  that  the  ideas  of  secondary  qualities 
are  also  produced,  viz.,  by  the  operation  of  insensible 
particles  on  our  senses.     For  it  being  manifest  that 
there  are  bodies,  and  good  store  of  bodies,  each  where- 
of are  so  small  that  we  cannot  by  any  of  our  senses 
discover  either  their  bulk,  figure,  or  motion  (as  is  evi- 
dent in  the  particles  of  the  air  and  water,  and  other 
extremely  smaller  than  those,  perhaps  as  much  smaller 
than  the  particles  of  air  or  water  as  the  particles  of 
air  or  water  are  smaller  than  peas  or  hailstones)  :  let 
us  suppose  at  present  that  the  different  motions  and 
figures,  bulk  and  number,  of  such  particles,  effecting 
the  several  organs  of  our  senses,  produce  in  us  those 
different  sensations  which  we  have  from  the  colours 
and  smells  of  bodies,  v.  g.,  that  a  violet,  by  the  im- 
pulse of  such  insensible  particles  of  matter  of  peculiar 
figures  and  bulks,  and  in  different  degrees  and  modi- 
fications  of  their   motions,   causes   the   ideas   of   the 
blue  colour  and  sweet  scent  of  that  flower  to  be  pro- 
duced in  our  minds;  it  being  no  more  impossible  to 
conceive  that  God  should  annex  such  ideas  to  such 
motions,  with  which  they  have  no  similitude,  than  that 
he  should  annex  the  idea  of  pain  to  the  motion  of  a 
piece  of  steel  dividing  our  flesh,  with  which  the  idea 
hath  no  resemblance. 

14.  What    I    have    said    concerning    colours    and 
smells  may  be  understood  also  of  tastes  and  sounds, 
and  other  the  like  sensible  qualities ;  which,  whatever 
reality    we    by    mistake    attribute    to    them,     are     in 


56       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

truth  nothing  in  the  objects  themselves,  but  powers 
to  produce  various  sensations  in  us,  and  depend  on 
those  primary  qualities,  viz.,  bulk,  figure,  texture,  and 
motion  of  parts  [as  I  have  said.] 

15.  Ideas  of  primary  qualities  are  resemblances; 
of  secondary,  not. —  From  whence  I  think  it  is  easy 
to  draw  this  observation,  that  the  ideas  of  primary 
qualities  of  bodies  are  resemblances  of  them,  and  their 
patterns  do  really  exist  in  the  bodies  themselves;  but 
the  ideas  produced  in  us  by  these  secondary  qualities 
have  no  resemblance  of  them  at  all.    There  is  nothing 
like  our  ideas  existing  in  the  bodies  themselves.    They 
are,  in  the  bodies  we  denominate  from  them,  only  a 
power  to  produce  those  sensations  in  us ;  and  what  is 
sweet,  blue,  or  warm  in  idea,  is  but  the  certain  bulk, 
figure,  and  motion  of  the  insensible  parts  in  the  bodies 
themselves,  which  we  call  so. 

16.  Flame   is   denominated  hot  and  light;  snow, 
white  and  cold;  and  manna,  white  and  siveet,  from 
the  ideas  they  produce  in  us,  which  qualities  are  com- 
monly thought  to  be  the  same  in  those  bodies  that 
those  ideas  are  in  us,  the  one  the  perfect  resemblance 
of  the  other,  as  they  are  in  a  mirror ;  and  it  would  by 
most  men  be  judged  very  extravagant,  if  one  should 
say  otherwise.    And  yet  he  that  will  consider  that  the 
same  fire  that  at  one  distance  produces  in  us  the  sen- 
sation of  warmth,  does  at  a  nearer  approach  produce 
in   us  the  far  different  sensation  of  pain,  ought  to 
bethink  himself  what  reason  he  has  to  say,  that  this 
idea  of  warmth  which  was  produced  in  him  by  the 
fire,  is  actually  in  the  fire,  and  his  idea  of  pain  which 
the  same  fire  produced  in  him  the  same  way  is  not  in 
the  fire.    Why  is  whiteness  and  coldness  in  snow  and 
pain  not,  when  it  produces  the  one  and  the  other  idea 


SIMPLE  IDEAS  OF  SENSATION.  57 

in  us,  and  can  do  neither  but  by  the  bulk,  figure,  num- 
ber, and  motion  of  its  solid  parts? 

17.  The  particular  bulk,  number,  figure,  and  mo- 
tion of  the  parts  of  fire  or  snow  are  really  in  them, 
whether  any  one's  senses  perceive  them  or  no;  and 
therefore  they  may  be  called  real  qualities,  because 
they  really  exist  in  those  bodies.  But  light,  heat, 
whiteness,  or  coldness,  are  no  more  really  in  them  than 
sickness  or  pain  is  in  manna.  Take  away  the  sensa- 
tion of  them ;  let  not  the  eyes  see  light  or  colours,  nor 
the  ears  hear  sounds ;  let  the  palate  not  taste,  nor  the 
nose  smell ;  and  all  colours,  tastes,  odours,  and  sounds, 
as  they  are  such  particular  ideas,  vanish  and  cease, 
and  are  reduced  to  their  causes,  i.  e.,  bulk,  figure,  and 
motion  of  parts. 

18.  A  piece  of  manna  of  a  sensible  bulk  is  able  to 
produce  in  us  the  idea  of  a  round  or  square  figure; 
and,  by  being  removed  from  one  place  to  another,  the 
idea  of  motion.  This  idea  of  motion  represents  it  as  it 
really  is  in  the  manna  moving;  a  circle  or  square  are 
the  same,  whether  in  idea  or  existence,  in  the  mind  or 
in  the  manna ;  and  this  both  motion  and  figure  are 
really  in  the  manna,  whether  we  take  notice  of  them 
or  no:  this  every  body  is  ready  to  agree  to.  Besides, 
manna,  by  the  bulk,  figure,  texture,  and  motion  of  its 
parts,  has  a  power  to  produce  the  sensations  of  sick- 
ness, and  sometimes  of  acute  pains  or  gripings,  in  us. 
That  these  ideas  of  sickness  and  pain  are  not  in  the 
manna,  but  effects  of  its  operations  on  us,  and  are 
nowhere  when  we  feel  them  not;  this  also  every  one 
readily  agrees  to.  And  yet  men  are  hardly  to  be 
brought  to  think  that  sweetness  and  whiteness  are 
not  really  in  manna,  which  are  but  the  effects  of  the 
operations  of  manna  by  the  motion,  size,  and  figure  of 


58       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

its  particles  on  the  eyes  and  palate ;  as  the  pain  and 
sickness  caused  by  manna,  are  confessedly  nothing 
but  the  effects  of  its  operations  on  the  stomach  and 
guts  by  the  size,  motion,  and  figure  of  its  insensible 
parts  (for  by  nothing  else  can  a  body  operate,  as  has 
been  proved)  :  as  if  it  could  not  operate  on  the  eyes 
and  palate,  and  thereby  produce  in  the  mind  particu- 
lar distinct  ideas  which  in  itself  it  has  not,  as  well  as 
we  allow  it  can  operate  on  the  guts  and  stomach,  and 
thereby  produce  distinct  ideas  which  in  itself  it  has 
not.  These  ideas  being  all  effects  of  the  operations 
of  manna  on  several  parts  of  our  bodies,  by  the  size, 
figure,  number,  and  motion  of  its  parts,  why  those  pro- 
duced by  the  eyes  and  palate  should  rather  be  thought 
to  be  really  in  the  manna  than  those  produced  by  the 
stomach  and  guts :  or  why  the  pain  and  sickness,  ideas 
that  are  the  effects  of  manna,  should  be  thought  to  be 
nowhere  when  they  are  not  felt :  and  yet  the  sweetness 
and  whiteness,  effects  of  the  same  manna  on  other 
parts  of  the  body,  by  ways  equally  as  unknown,  should 
be  thought  to  exist  in  the  manna,  when  they  are  not 
.seen  nor  tasted  would  need  some  reason  to  explain. 

19.  Ideas  of  primary  qualities  are  resemblances;  of 
secondary,  not. —  Let  us  consider  the  red  and  white 
colours  in  porphyry ;  hinder  light  but  from  striking  on 
it,  and  its  colours  vanish;  it  no  longer  produces  any 
such  ideas  in  us.  Upon  the  return  of  light,  it  pro- 
duces these  appearances  on  us  again.  Can  any  one 
think  any  real  alterations  are  made  in  the  porphyry 
by  the  presence  or  absence  of  light,  and  that  those 
ideas  of  whiteness  and  redness  are  really  in  porphyry 
in  the  light,  when  it  is  plain  it  has  no  colour  in  the 
dark  ?  It  has  indeed  such  a  configuration  of  particles, 
both  night  and  day,  as  are  apt,  by  the  rays  of  light 


SIMPLE  IDEAS  OF  SENSATION.  59 

rebounding  from  some  parts  of  that  hard  stone,  to 
produce  in  us  the  idea  of  redness,  and  from  others 
the  idea  of  whiteness.  But  whiteness  or  redness  are 
not  in  it  at  any  time,  but  such  a  texture  that  hath 
the  power  to  produce  such  a  sensation  in  us. 

20.  Pound  an  almond,  and  the  clear  white  colour 
will  be  altered  into  a  dirty  one,  and  the  sweet  taste 
into  an  oily  one.    What  real  alteration  can  the  beating 
of  the  pestle  make  in  any  body,  but  an  alteration  of 
the  texture  of  it? 

21.  Ideas  being  thus  distinguished  and  understood, 
we  may  be  able  to  give  an  account  how  the  same  water, 
at  the  same  time,  may  produce  the  idea  of  cold  by  one 
hand,  and  of  heat  by  the  other;  whereas  it  is  impos- 
sible that  the  same  water,  if  those  ideas  were  really  in 
it,  should  at  the  same  time  be  both  hot  and  cold.     For 
if  we  imagine  warmth  as  it  is  in  our  hands,  to  be  noth- 
ing but  a  certain  sort  and  degree  of  motion  in  the 
minute  particles  of  our  nerves  or  animal  spirits,  we 
may    understand    how    it    is    possible   that   the    same 
water  may  at  the  same  time  produce  the  sensation  of 
heat  in  one  hand,  and  cold  in  the  other;  which  yet 
figure  never  does,  that  never  producing  the  idea  of  a 
square  by  one  hand  which  has  produced  the  idea  of 
a  globe  by  another.     But  if  the  sensation  of  heat  and 
cold  be  nothing  but  the  increase  or  diminution  of  the 
motion  of  the  minute  parts  of  our  bodies,  caused  by  the 
corpuscles  of  any  other  body,  it  is  easy  to  be  under- 
stood that  if  that  motion  be  greater  in  one  hand  than 
in  the  other,  if  a  body  be  applied  to  the  two  hands, 
which  has   in   its  minute  particles  a  greater  motion 
than  in  those  of  one  of  the  hands,  and  a  less  than 
in  those  of  the  other,  it  will  increase  the  motion  of  the 
one  hand,  and  lessen  it  in  the  other,  and  so  cause  the 


60       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

different  sensations  of  heat  and  cold  that  depend  there- 
on. 

22.  I  have,  in  what  just  goes  before,  been  engaged 
in  physical  inquiries   a   little   farther  than   perhaps   I 
intended.     But  it  being  necessary  to  make  the  nature 
of  sensation  a  little  understood,  and  to  make  the  differ- 
ence between  the  qualities  in  bodies,  and  the  ideas  pro- 
duced by  them  in  the  mind,  to  be  distinctly  conceived, 
without  which  it  were  impossible  to  discourse  intel- 
ligibly of  them,  I  hope  I  shall  be  pardoned  this  little 
excursion  into  natural  philosophy,  it  being  necessary 
in  our  present  inquiry  to  distinguish  the  primary  and 
real  qualities  of  bodies,  which  are  always  in  them, 
(viz.,  solidity,  extension,  figure,  number,  and  motion 
or  rest  and  are  sometimes  perceived  by  us,  viz.,  when 
the  bodies  they  are  in  are  big  enough  singly  to  be 
discerned,)   from  those  secondary  and  imputed  quali- 
ties, which  are  but  the  powers  of  several  combinations 
of  those  primary  ones,  when  they  operate  without  be- 
ing distinctly  discerned;  whereby  we  also  may  come 
to  know  what  ideas  are,  and  what  are  not,  resem- 
blances of  something  really  existing  in  the  bodies  we 
denominate  from  them. 

23.  Three  sorts  of  qualities  in  bodies. —  The  quali- 
ties then  that  are  in  bodies,  rightly  considered,  are  of 
three  sorts: 

First.  The  bulk,  figure,  number,  situation,  and  mo- 
tion or  rest  of  their  solid  parts ;  those  are  in  them, 
whether  we  perceive  them  or  not ;  and  when  they  are 
of  that  size  that  we  can  discover  them,  we  have  by 
these  ideas  of  the  thing  as  it  is  in  itself,  as  is  plain 
in  artificial  things.  These  I  call  primary  qualities. 

Secondly.  The  power  that  is  in  any  body,  by  rea- 
son of  its  insensible  primary  qualities,  to  operate  after 


SIMPLE  IDEAS  OF  SENSATION.  61 

a  peculiar  manner  on  any  of  our  senses,  and  thereby 
produce  in  us  the  different  ideas  of  several  colours, 
sounds,  smells,  tastes,  &c.  These  are  usually  called 
sensible  qualities. 

Thirdly.  The  power  that  is  in  any  body,  by  rea- 
son of  the  particular  constitution  of  its  primary  quali- 
ties, to  make  such  a  change  in  the  bulk,  figure,  texture, 
and  motion  of  another  body,  as  to  make  it  operate  on 
our  senses  differently  from  what  it  did  before.  Thus 
the  sun  has  a  power  to  make  wax  white,  and  fire,  to 
make  lead  fluid.  [These  are  usually  called  "  powers."] 

The  first  of  these,  as  has  been  said,  I  think  may  be 
properly  called  real,  original,  or  primary  qualities, 
because  they  are  in  the  things  themselves,  whether 
they  are  perceived  or  no ;  and  upon  their  different 
modifications  it  is  that  the  secondary  qualities  depend. 

The  other  two  are  only  powers  to  act  differently 
upon  other  things,  which  powers  result  from  the  dif- 
ferent modifications  of  those  primary  qualities. 

24.  The  first  are  resemblances;  the  second  thought 
resemblances,  but  are  not;  the  third  neither  are,  nor 
are  thought  so. —  But  though  these  two  latter  sorts  of 
qualities  are  powers  barely,  and  nothing  but  powers, 
relating  to  several  other  bodies,  and  resulting  from 
the  different  modifications  of  the  original  qualities, 
yet  they  are  generally  otherwise  thought  of.  For  the 
second  sort,  viz.,  the  powers  to  produce  several  ideas 
in  us  by  our  senses,  are  looked  upon  as  real  qualities 
in  the  things  thus  affecting  us ;  but  the  third  sort  are 
called  and  esteemed  barely  powers.  V.  g.,  the  idea  of 
heat  or  light  which  we  receive  by  our  eyes  or  touch 
from  the  sun,  are  commonly  thought  real  qualities 
existing  in  the  sun,  and  something  more  than  mere 
powers  in  it.  But  when  we  consider  the  sun  in  ref- 


62       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

erence  to  wax,  which  it  melts  or  blanches,  we  look  up- 
on the  whiteness  and  softness  produced  in  the  wax, 
not  as  qualities  in  the  sun,  but  effects  produced  by 
powers  in  it:  whereas,  if  rightly  considered,  these 
qualities  of  light  and  warmth,  which  are  perceptions 
in  me  when  I  am  warmed  or  enlightened  by  the  sun, 
are  no  otherwise  in  the  sun  than  the  changes  made 
in  the  wax,  when  it  is  blanched  or  melted,  are  in  the 
sun.  They  are  all  of  them  equally  powers  in  the  sun, 
depending  on  its  primary  qualities,  whereby  it  is  able 
in  /the  one  case  so  to  alter  the  bulk,  figure,  texture, 
or  motion  of  some  of  the  insensible  parts  of  my  eyes 
or  hands  as  thereby  to  produce  in  me  the  idea  of  light 
or  heat,  and  in  the  other  it  is  able  so  to  alter  the  bulk, 
figure,  texture,  or  motion  of  the  insensible  parts  of  the 
wax  as  to  make  them  fit  to  produce  in  me  the  distinct 
ideas  of  white  and  fluid. 

25.  The  reason  why  the  one  are  ordinarily  taken 
for  real  qualities,  and  the  other  only  for  bare  powers, 
seems  to  be  because  the  ideas  we  have  of  distinct 
colours,  sounds,  &c.,  containing  nothing  at  all  in  them 
of  bulk,  figure,  or  motion,  we  are  not  apt  to  think 
them  the  effects  of  these  primary  qualities  which  ap- 
pear not,  to  our  senses,  to  operate  in  their  production, 
and  with  which  they  have  not  any  apparent  congruity, 
or  conceivable  connexion.  Hence  it  is  that  we  are  so 
forward  to  imagine  that  those  ideas  are  the  resem- 
blances of  something  really  existing  in  the  objects 
themselves,  since  sensation  discovers  nothing  of  bulk, 
figure,  or  motion  of  parts,  in  their  production,  nor 
can  reason  show  how  bodies  by  their  bulk,  figure,  and 
motion,  should  produce  in  the  mind  the  ideas  of  blue 
or  yellow,  &c.  But,  in  the  other  case,  in  the  opera- 
tions of  bodies  changing  the  qualities  one  of  another, 


SIMPLE  IDEAS  OF  SENSATION.  63 

we  plainly  discover  that  the  quality  produced  hath 
commonly  no  resemblance  with  any  thing  in  the  thing 
producing  it;  wherefore  we  look  on  it  as  a  bare  effect 
of  power.  For  though,  receiving  the  idea  of  heat  or 
light  from  the  sun,  we  are  apt  to  think  it  is  a  per- 
ception and  resemblance  of  such  a  quality  in  the  sun, 
yet  when  we  see  wax,  or  a  fair  face,  receive  change  of 
colour  from  the  sun,  we  cannot  imagine  that  to  the 
perception  or  resemblance  of  any  thing  in  the  sun, 
because  we  find  not  those  different  colours  in  the  sun 
itself :  for,  our  senses  being  able  to  observe  a  likeness 
or  unlikeness  of  sensible  qualities  in  two  different  ex- 
ternal objects,  we  forwardly  enough  conclude  the  pro- 
duction of  any  sensible  quality  in  any  subject  to  be 
an  effect  of  bare  power,  and  not  the  communication 
of  any  quality  which  was  really  in  the  efficient,  when 
we  find  no  such  sensible  quality  in  the  thing  that 
produced  it.  But  our  senses  not  being  able  to  dis- 
cover any  unlikeness  between  the  idea  produced  in  us 
and  the  quality  of  the  object  producing  it,  we  are  apt 
to  imagine  that  our  ideas  are  resemblances  of  some- 
thing in  the  objects,  and  not  the  effects  of  certain 
powers  placed  in  the  modification  of  their  primary 
qualities,  with  which  primary  qualities  the  ideas  pro- 
duced in  us  have  no  resemblance. 

26.  Secondary  qualities  twofold:  first,  immediately 
perceivable;  secondly,  mediately  perceivable. —  To  con- 
clude: Beside  those  before-mentioned  primary  quali- 
ties in  bodies,  viz.,  bulk,  figure,  extension,  number,  and 
motion  of  their  solid  parts,  all  the  rest  whereby  we 
take  notice  of  bodies  and  distinguish  them  one  from 
another,  are  nothing  else  but  several  powers  in  them 
depending  on  those  primary  qualities,  whereby  they 
are  fitted,  either  by  immediately  operating  on  our  bod- 


64       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

ies,  to  produce  several  different  ideas  in  us;  or  else 
by  operating  on  other  bodies,  so  to  change  their  pri- 
mary qualities  as  to  render  them  capable  of  produc- 
ing ideas  in  us  different  from  what  before  they  did. 
The  former  of  these,  I  think,  may  be  called  secondary 
qualities  immediately  perceivable;  the  latter,  secondary 
qualities  mediately  perceivable. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

OF   PERCEPTION. 

1.  Perception  the  first  simple  idea  of  reflection. — 
Perception,  as  it  is  the  first  faculty  of  the  mind  exer- 
cised about  our  ideas,  so  it  is  the  first  and  simplest 
idea  we  have  from  reflection,  and  is  by  some  called 
"  thinking  "  in  general.    Though  thinking,  in  the  pro- 
priety of  the  English  tongue,  signifies  that  sort  of 
operation  of  the   mind  about   its   ideas   wherein  the 
mind  is  active;  where  it,  with  some  degree  of  volun- 
tary attention,  considers  any  thing:  for  in  bare,  naked 
perception,  the  mind  is,  for  the  most  part,  only  passive, 
and  what  it  perceives  it  cannot  avoid  perceiving. 

2.  Is  only  when  the  mind  receives  the  impression. — 
What  perception  is,  every  one  will  know  better  by 
reflecting   on   what  he   does  himself,   when  he  sees, 
hears,  feels,  &c.,  or  thinks,  than  by  any  discourse  of 

.mine.  Whoever  reflects  on  what  passes  in  his  own 
mind,  cannot  miss  it;  and  if  he  does  not  reflect,  all 
the  words  in  the  world  cannot  make  him  have  any 
notion  of  it. 

3.  This   is   certain,   that   whatever  alterations  are 
made  in  the  body,  if  they  reach  not  the  mind ;  whatever 
impressions  are  made  on  the  outward  parts,  if  they  are 


OF  PERCEPTION.  65 

not  taken  notice  of  within;  there  is  no  perception. 
Fire  may  burn  our  bodies  with  no  other  effect  than 
it  does  a  billet,  unless  the  motion  be  continued  to  the 
brain,  and  there  the  sense  of  heat  or  idea  of  pain  be 
produced  in  the  mind,  wherein  consists  actual  percep- 
tion. 

4.  How  often  may  a  man  observe  in  himself,  that 
whilst  his  mind  is  intently  employed  in  the  contempla- 
tion of  some  objects,  and  curiously  surveying  some 
ideas  that  are  there,  it  takes  no  notice  of  impressions 
of  sounding  bodies  made  upon  the  organ  of  hearing 
with  the  same  alteration  that  uses  to  be  for  the  pro- 
ducing the  idea  of  sound!    A  sufficient  impulse  there 
may  be  on  the  organ ;  but  it  not  reaching  the  observa- 
tion of  the  mind,  there  follows  no  perception:  and 
though  the  motion  that  uses  to  produce  the  idea  of 
sound  be  made  in  the  ear,  yet  no  sound  is  heard. 
Want  of  sensation  in  this  case  is  not  through  any  de- 
fect in  the  organ,  or  that  the  man's   ears  are  less 
affected  than  at  other  times  when  he  does  hear;  but 
that  which  uses  to  produce  the  idea,  though  conveyed 
in  by  the  usual  organ,  not  being  taken  notice  of  in 
the  understanding,  and  so  imprinting  no  idea  on  the 
mind,  there  follows  no  sensation.     So  that  wherever 
there  is  sense  or  perception,  there  some  idea  is  ac- 
tually produced,  and  present  in  the  understanding. 

5.  Children,  though  they  may  have  ideas  in  the 
womb,  have  none  innate. —  Therefore,  I  doubt  not  but 
children,  by  the  exercise  of  their  senses  about  objects 
that  affect  them  in  the  womb,  receive  some  few  ideas 
before  they  are  born,  as  the  unavoidable  effects  either 
of  the  bodies  that  environ  them,  or  else  of  those  wants 
or  diseases  they  suffer;  amongst  which   (if  one  may 
conjecture  concerning  things  not  very  capable  of  ex- 


66       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

amination)  I  think  the  ideas  of  hunger  and  warmth 
are  two,  which  probably  are  some  of  the  first  that 
children  have,  and  which  they  scarce  ever  part  with 
again. 

6.  But  though  it  be   reasonable   to   imagine  that 
children   receive   some   ideas   before   they   come   into 
the  world,  yet  these  simple  ideas  are  far  from  those 
innate   principles   which   some   contend    for,   and   we 
above  have  rejected.     These  here  mentioned,  being  the 
effects  of   sensation,   are   only   from  some  affections 
of  the  body  which  happen  to  them  there,  and  so  de- 
pend on  something  exterior  to  the  mind ;  no  otherwise 
differing  in  their  manner  of  production  from  other 
ideas  derived  from  sense,  but  only  in  the  precedency 
of  time;  whereas  those  innate  principles  are  supposed 
to  be  quite  of  another  nature,  not  coming  into  the 
mind  by  any  accidental   alterations  in  or  operations 
on  the  body;  but,  as  it  were,  original  characters  im- 
pressed upon  it  in  the  very  first  moment  of  its  being 
and  constitution. 

7.  Which  ideas  first,  is  not  evident. —  As  there  are 
some  ideas  which  we  may  reasonably  suppose  may  be 
introduced  into  the  minds  of  children  in  the  womb, 
subservient  to  the  necessities  of  their  life  and  being 
there;   so   after   they  are  born   those   ideas   are  the 
earliest   imprinted   which  happen  to  be  the   sensible 
qualities  which  first  occur  to  them:  amongst  which, 
light  is  not  the  least  considerable,  nor  of  the  weakest 
efficacy.     And  how  covetous  the  mind  is  to  be  fur- 
nished with  all  such  ideas  as  have  no  pain  accom- 
panying them,  may  be  a  little  guessed  by  what  is  ob- 
servable in  children  new  born,  who  always  turn  their 
eyes  to  that  part  from  whence  the  light  comes,  lay 
them  how  you  please.     But  the  ideas  that  are  most 


OF  PERCEPTION.  67 

familiar  at  first  being  various,  according  to  the  divers 
circumstances  of  children's  first  entertainment  in  the 
world,  the  order  wherein  the  several  ideas  come  at  first 
into  the  mind  is  very  various  and  uncertain  also,  nei- 
ther is  it  much  material  to  know  it. 

8.  Ideas  of  sensation  often  changed  by  the  judg- 
ment.—  We  are  farther  to  consider  concerning  percep- 
tion, that  the  ideas  we  receive  by  sensation  are  often  in 
grown  people  altered  by  the  judgment  without  our 
taking  notice  of  it.  When  we  set  before  our  eyes  a 
round  globe  of  any  uniform  colour,  v.  g.,  gold,  ala- 
baster, or  jet,  it  is  certain  that  the  idea  thereby  im- 
printed in  our  mind  is  of  a  flat  circle  variously  shad- 
owed, with  several  degrees  of  light  and  brightness 
coming  to  our  eyes.  But  we  having  by  use  been  accus- 
tomed to  perceive  what  kind  of  appearance  convex 
bodies  are  wont  to  make  in  us,  what  alterations  are 
made  in  the  reflections  of  light  by  the  difference  of 
the  sensible  figures  of  bodies,  the  judgment  presently, 
by  an  habitual  custom,  alters  the  appearances  into 
their  causes ;  so  that,  from  that  which  truly  is  variety 
of  shadow  or  colour  collecting  the  figure,  it  makes  it 
pass  for  a  mark  of  figure,  and  frames  to  itself  the 
perception  of  a  convex  figure  and  an  uniform  colour; 
when  the  idea  we  receive  from  thence  is  only  a  plane 
variously  coloured,  as  is  evident  in  painting.  [To 
which  purpose  I  shall  here  insert  a  problem  of  that 
very  ingenious  and  studious  promoter  of  real  knowl- 
edge, the  learned  and  worthy  Mr.  Molineaux,  which  he 
was  pleased  to  send  me  in  a  letter  some  months  since : 
and  it  is  this :  "  Suppose  a  man  born  blind,  and  now 
adult,  and  taught  by  his  touch  to  distinguish  between 
a  cube  and  a  sphere  of  the  same  metal,  and  nighly 
of  the  same  bigness,  so  as  to  tell,  when  he  felt  one  and 


68       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

the  other,  which  is  the  cube,  which  the  sphere.  Sup- 
pose then  the  cube  and  sphere  placed  on  a  table,  and 
the  blind  man  to  be  made  to  see;  quaere,  Whether  by 
his  sight,  before  he  touched  them,  he  could  now  dis- 
tinguish and  tell  which  is  the  globe,  which  the 
cube?"  To  which  the  acute  and  judicious  proposer 
answers :  "  Not.  For  though  he  has  obtained  the  ex- 
perience of  how  a  globe,  how  a  cube,  affects  his 
touch ;  yet  he  has  not  yet  obtained  the  experience,  that 
what  affects  his  touch  so  or  so,  must  affect  his  sight 
so  or  so ;  or  that  a  protuberant  angle  in  the  cube,  that 
pressed  his  hand  unequally,  shall  appear  to  his  eye 
as  it  does  in  the  cube."  I  agree  with  this  thinking 
gentleman,  whom  I  am  proud  to  call  my  friend,  in 
his  answer  to  this  his  problem;  and  am  of  opinion, 
that  the  blind  man,  at  first  sight,  would  not  be  able 
with  certainty  to  say  which  was  the  globe,  which  the 
cube,  whilst  he  only  saw  them;  though  he  could  un- 
erringly name  them  by  his  touch,  and  certainly  dis- 
tinguish them  by  the  difference  of  their  figures  felt. 
This  I  have  set  down,  and  leave  with  my  reader,  as 
an  occasion  for  him  to  consider  how  much  he  may  be 
beholden  to  experience,  improvement,  and  acquired 
notions,  where  he  thinks  he  has  not  the  least  use  of,  or 
help  from  them ;  and  the  rather,  because  this  observing 
gentleman  farther  adds,  that  having  upon  the  occasion 
of  my  book  proposed  this  to  divers  very  ingenious 
men,  he  hardly  ever  met  with  one  that  at  first  gave 
the  answer  to  it  which  he  thinks  true,  till  by  hearing 
his  reasons  they  were  convinced.] 

9.  But  this  is  not,  I  think,  usual  in  any  of  our  ideas 
but  those  received .  by  sight ;  because  sight,  the  most 
comprehensive  of  all  our  senses,  conveying  to  our 
minds  the  ideas  of  light  and  colours,  which  are  peculiar 


OF  PERCEPTION.  69 

only  to  that  sense;  and  also  the  far  different  ideas  of 
space,  figure  and  motion,  the  several  varieties  whereof 
change  the  appearances  of  its  proper  objects,  viz.,  light 
and  colours;  we  bring  ourselves  by  use  to  judge  of 
the  one  by  the  dther.  This,  in  many  cases,  by  a  settled 
habit  in  things  whereof  we  have  frequent  experience, 
is  performed  so  constantly  and  so  quick,  that  we  take 
that  for  the  perception  of  our  sensation  which  is  an 
idea  formed  by  our  judgment ;  so  that  one,  viz.,  that 
of  sensation,  serves  only  to  excite  the  other,  and  is 
scarce  taken  notice  of  itself;  as  a  man  who  reads  or 
hears  with  attention  and  understanding,  takes  little 
notice  of  the  characters  or  sounds,  but  of  the  ideas 
that  are  excited  in  him  by  them. 

10.  Nor  need  we  wonder  that  this  is  done  with  so 
little  notice,  if  we  consider  how  very  quick  the  actions 
of  the  mind  are  performed :  for  as  itself  is  thought  to 
take  up  no  space,  to  have  no  extension,  so  its  actions 
seem  to  require  no  time,  but  many  of  them  seem  to 
be  crowded  into  an  instant.  I  speak  this  in  compari- 
son to  the  actions  of  the  body.  Any  one  may  easily 
observe  this  in  his  own  thoughts  who  will  take  the 
pains  to  reflect  on  them.  How,  as  it  were  in  an  in- 
stant, do  our  minds  with  one  glance  see  all  the  parts 
of  a  demonstration,  which  may  very  well  be  called  a 
long  one,  if  we  consider  the  time  it  will  require  to  put 
it  into  words,  and  step  by  step  show  it  another!  Sec- 
ondly. We  shall  not  be  so  much  surprised  that  this 
is  done  in  us  with  so  little  notice,  if  we  consider  how 
the  facility  which  we  get  of  doing  things,  by  a  cus- 
tom of  doing,  makes  them  often  pass  in  us  without  our 
notice.  Habits,  especially  such  as  are  begun  very 
early,  come  at  last  to  produce  actions  in  us  which 
often  escape  our  observation.  How  frequently  do  we 


70       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

in  a  day  cover  our  eyes  with  our  eye-lids,  without  per- 
ceiving that  we  are  at  all  in  the  dark!  Men,  that  by 
custom  have  got  the  use  of  a  by-word,  do  almost  in 
every  sentence  pronounce  sounds  which,  though  taken 
notice  of  by  others,  they  themselves  neither  hear  nor 
observe.  And  therefore  it  is  not  so  strange  that  our 
mind  should  often  change  the  idea  of  its  sensation  into 
that  of  its  judgment,  and  make  one  serve  only  to 
excite  the  other,  without  our  taking  notice  of  it. 

11.  Perception  puts  the  difference  between  animals 
and    inferior    beings. —  This     faculty    of    perception 
seems  to  me  to  be  that  which  puts  the  distinction  be- 
twixt the  animal  kingdom  and  the  inferior  parts  of 
nature.     For  however  vegetables  have,  many  of  them, 
some  degrees  of  motion,  and,  upon  the  different  appli- 
cation of  other  bodies  to  them,  do  very  briskly  alter 
their  figures  and  motions,  and  so  have  obtained  the 
name  of  "  sensitive  plants  "  from  a  motion  which  has 
some  resemblance  to  that  which   in  animals  follows 
upon  sensation ;  yet  I  suppose  it  is  all  bare  mechanism, 
and  no  otherwise  produced  than  the  turning  of  a  wild 
oat-beard  by  the  insinuation  of  the  particles  of  mois- 
ture, or  the  shortening  of  a  rope  by  the  affusion  of 
water.    All  which  is  done  without  any  sensation  in  the 
subject,  or  the  having  or  receiving  any  ideas. 

12.  Perception,  I  believe,  is  in  some  degree  in  all 
sorts  of  animals ;  though  in  some  possibly  the  avenues 
provided  by  nature  for  the  reception  of  sensations  are 
so  few,  and  the  perception  they  are  received  with  so 
obscure  and  dull,  that  it  comes  extremely  short  of  the 
quickness  and  variety  of  sensations  which  is  in  other 
animals:  but  yet  it  is  sufficient  for  and  wisely  adapted 
to  the  state  and  condition  of  that  sort  of  animals  who 
are  thus  made ;  so  that  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of 


OF  PERCEPTION.  71 

. 

the  Maker  plainly  appear  in  all  the  parts  of  this 
stupendous  fabric,  and  all  the  several  degrees  and 
ranks  of  creatures  in  it./ 

13.  We  may,  I  think,  from  the  make  of  an  oyster 
or  cockle,  reasonably  conclude  that  it  has  not  so  many 
nor  so  quick  senses  as  a  man,  or  several  other  animals ; 
nor,  if  it  had,  would  it,  in  that  state  and  incapacity  of 
transferring  itself  from  one  place  to  another,  be  bet- 
tered by  them.     What  good  would  sight  and  hearing 
do  to  a  creature  that  cannot  move  itself  to  or  from 
the  objects  wherein  at  a  distance  it  perceives  good  or 
evil?     And  would  not  quickness  of  sensation  be  an 
inconvenience  to  an  animal  that  must  lie  still  where 
chance  has  once  placed  it,  and  there  receive  the  afflux 
of  colder  or  warmer,  clean  or  foul,  water,  as  it  hap- 
pens to  come  to  it? 

14.  But  yet  I  cannot  but  think  there  is  some  small 
dull  perception  whereby  they  are  distinguished  from 
perfect   insensibility.     And  that  this  may  be   so,   we 
have  plain  instances  even  in  mankind  itself.    Take  one 
in  whom  decrepit  old  age  has  blotted  out  the  memory 
of  his  past  knowledge,  and  clearly  wiped  out  the  ideas 
his  mind  was  formerly  stored  with;  and  has,  by  de- 
stroying his  sight,  hearing,  and  smell  quite,  and  his 
taste   to  a  great  degree,   stopped   up   almost  all  the 
passages  for  new  ones  to  enter;  or  if  there  be  some 
of  the  inlets  yet  half  open,  the  impressions  made  are 
scarce  perceived,  or  not  at  all  retained.    How  far  such 
an  one  (notwithstanding  all  that  is  boasted  of  innate 
principles)  is  in  his  knowledge  and  intellectual  faculities 
above  the  condition  of  a  cockle  or  an  oyster,  I  leave  to 
be  considered.     And  if  a  man  had  passed  sixty  years 
in  such  a  state,  as  it  is  possible  he  might  as  well  as 
three  days,  I  wonder  what  difference  there  would  have 


72       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

been,  in  any  intellectual  perfections,  between  him  and 
the  lowest  degree  of  animals.       , 

15.  Perception  the  inlet  of  knowledge. —  Percep- 
tion, then,  being  the  first  step  and  degree  towards 
knowledge,  and  the  inlet  of  all  the  materials  of  it,  the 
fewer  senses  any  man  as  well  as  any  other  creature 
hath,  and  the  fewer  and  duller  the  impressions  are 
that  are  made  by  them,  and  the  duller  the  faculties 
are  that  are  employed  about  them,  the  more  remote 
are  they  from  that  knowledge  whch  is  to  be  found  in 
some  men.  But  this,  being  in  great  variety  of  degrees 
(as  may  be  perceived  amongst  men),  cannot  certainly 
be  discovered  in  the  several  species  of  animals,  much 
less  in  their  particular  individuals.  It  suffices  me  only 
to  have  remarked  here,  that  perception  is  the  first 
operation  of  all  our  intellectual  faculties,  and  the  inlet 
of  all  knowledge  into  our  minds.  And  I  am  apt,  too, 
to  imagine  that  it  is  perception  in  the  lowest  degree  of 
it  which  puts  the  boundaries  between  animals  and  the 
inferior  ranks  of  creatures.  But  this  I  mention  only 
as  my  conjecture  by  the  by,  it  being  indifferent  to  the 
matter  in  hand  which  way  the  learned  shall  determine 
of  it 

CHAPTER  X. 

OF    RETENTION. 

I.  Contemplation. —  The  next  faculty  of  the  mind, 
•whereby  it  makes  a  farther  progress  towards  knowl- 
edge, is  that  which  I  call  retention  or  the  keeping  of 
those  simple  ideas  which  from  sensation  or  reflection 
it  hath  received.  This  is  done  two  ways.  First,  by 
keeping  the  idea  which  is  brought  into  it  for  some 


OF  RETENTION.  ,  73 

time  actually  in  view,  which  is  called  contemplation. 

2.  Memory. —  The  other  way  of  retention  is  the 
power  to  revive  again  in  our  minds  those  ideas  which 
after  imprinting  have  disappeared,  or  have  been  as  it 
were  laid  aside  out  of  sight;  and  thus  we  do,  when 
we  conceive  heat  or  light,  yellow  or  sweet,  the  object 
being  removed.    This  is  memory,  which  is,  as  it  were, 
the  storehouse  of  our  ideas.     For  the  narrow  mind  of 
man,  not  being  capable  of  having  many  ideas  under 
view  and  consideration  at  once,  it  was  necessary  to 
have  a  repository  to  lay  up  those  ideas,  which  at  an- 
other time  it  might  have  use  of.     [But  our  ideas  be- 
ing nothing  but  actual  perceptions  in  the  mind,  which 
cease    to   be    any   thing   when    there    is   no   percep- 
tion of  them,  this  laying  up  of  our  ideas  in  the  re- 
pository of  the  memory  signifies  no  more  but  this, — 
that  the  mind  has  a  power,  in  many  cases,  to  revive 
perceptions  which  it  has  once  had,  with  this  additional 
perception  annexed  to  them, —  that  it  has  had  them 
before.    And  in  this  sense  it  is  that  our  ideas  are  said 
to  be  in  our  memories,  when  indeed  they  are  actually 
nowhere,  but  only  there  is  an  ability  in  the  mind  when 
it  will  to  revive  them  again,  and,  as  it  were,  paint  them 
anew  on  itself,  though  some  with  more,  some  with 
less,   difficulty;   some   more   lively,   and  others   more 
obscurely.]     And  thus  it  is  by  the  assistance  of  this 
faculty  that  we  are  said  to  have  all  those  ideas  in  our 
understandings,  which  though  we  do  not  actually  con- 
template, yet  we  can  bring  in  sight,  and  make  appear 
again  and  be  the  objects  of  our  thoughts,  without  the 
help  of  those  sensible  qualities  which  first  imprinted 
them  there. 

3.  Attention,    repetition,    pleasure,    and    pain    fix 
ideas. —  Attention    and    repetition    help    much    to    the 


74       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

fixing  any  ideas  in  the  memory ;  but  those  which  nat- 
urally at  first  make  the  deepest  and  most  lasting  im- 
pression, are  those  which  are  accompanied  with  pleas- 
ure or  pain.  The  great  business  of  the  senses  being  to 
make  us  take  notice  of  what  hurts  or  advantages  the 
body,  it  is  wisely  ordered  by  nature  (as  has  been 
shown)  that  pain  should  accompany  the  reception  of 
several  ideas ;  which,  supplying  the  place  of  considera- 
tion and  reasoning  in  children,  and  acting  quicker 
than  consideration  in  grown  men,  makes  both  the 
old  and  young  avoid  painful  objects  with  that  haste 
which  is  necessary  for  their  preservation,  and  in  both 
settles  in  the  memory  a  caution  for  the  future. 

4.  Ideas   fade   in   the   memory. —  Concerning   the 
several   degrees  of  lasting   wherewith   ideas  are  im- 
printed on  the  memory,  we  may  observe,  that  some  of 
them  have  been  produced  in  the  understanding  by  an 
object  affecting  the  senses  once  only,  and  no  more 
than  once:  [others,  that  have  more  than  once  offered 
themselves  to  the  senses,  have  yet  been  little  taken 
notice  of;  the  mind,  either  heedless  as  in  children,  or 
otherwise  employed  as  in   men,   intent  only  on   one 
thing,  not  setting  the  "stamp  deep  into  itself ;  and  in 
some,  where  they  are  set  on  with  care  and  repeated 
impressions,  either]  through  the  temper  of  the  body  or 
some  other  fault,  the  memory  is  very  weak.     In  all 
these  cases,  ideas  [in  the  mind]  quickly  fade,  and  often 
vanish  quite  out  of  the  understanding,  leaving  no  more 
footsteps  or  remaining  characters  of  themselves,  than 
shadows  do  flying  over  fields  of  corn :  and  the  mind  is 
as  void  of  them  as  if  they  never  had  been  there. 

5.  Thus  many  of  those  ideas  which  were  produced 
in  the  minds  of  children  in  the  beginning  of  their  sen- 
sation  (some  of  which  perhaps,  as  of  some  pleasures 


-  OF  RETENTION.  75 

and  pains,  were  before  they  were  born,  and  others  in 
their  infancy),  if  in  the  future  course  of  their  lives 
they  are  not  repeated  again,  are  quite  lost,  without  the 
least  glimpse  remaining  of  them.  This  may  be  ob- 
served in  those  who  by  some  mischance  have  lost  their 
sight  when  they  were  very  young,  in  whom  the  ideas 
of  colours,  having  been  but  slightly  taken  notice  of, 
and  ceasing  to  be  repeated,  do  quite  wear  out;  so  that 
some  years  after  there  is  no  more  notion  nor  memory 
of  colours  left  in  their  minds,  than  in  those  of  people 
born  blind.  The  memory  of  some  men,  it  is  true,  is 
very  tenacious,  even  to  a  miracle;  but  yet  there  seems 
to  be  a  constant  decay  of  all  our  ideas,  even  of  those 
which  are  struck  deepest,  and  in  minds  the  most  re- 
tentive ;  so  that  if  they  be  not  sometimes  renewed  by 
repeated  exercise  of  the  senses,  or  reflection  on  those 
kinds  of  objects  which  at  first  occasioned  them,  the 
print  wears  out,  and  at  last  there  remains  nothing  to 
be  seen.  Thus  the  ideas,  as  well  as  children,  of  our 
youth  often  die  before  us ;  and  our  minds  represent 
to  us  those  tombs  to  which  we  are  approaching ;  where 
though  the  brass  and  marble  remain,  yet  the  inscrip- 
tions are  effaced  by  time,  and  the  imagery  moulders 
away.  The  pictures  drawn  in  our  minds  are  laid  in 
fading  colours ;  and  if  not  sometimes  refreshed,  vanish 
and  disappear.  How  much  the  constitution  of  our 
bodies,  [and  the  make  of  our  animal  spirits,]  are  con- 
cerned in  this ;  and  whether  the  temper  of  the  brain 
makes  this  difference,  that  in  some  it  retains  the  char- 
acters drawn  on  it  like  marble,  in  others  like  free- 
stone, and  in  others  little  better  than  sand,  I  shall  not 
here  inquire:  though  it  may  seem  probable  that  the 
constitution  of  the  body  does  sometimes  influence  the 
memory ;  since  we  oftentimes  find  a  disease  quite  strip 


76       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

the  mind  of  all  its  ideas,  and  the  flames  of  a  fever  in 
a  few  days  calcine  all  those  images  to  dust  and  con- 
fusion, which  seemed  to  be  as  lasting  as  if  graved  in 
marble. 

6.  Constantly  repeated  ideas  can  scarce  be  lost. — 
But  concerning  the  ideas  themselves  it  is  easy  to  re- 
mark, that  those  that  are  oftenest  refreshed  (amongst 
which  are  those  that  are  conveyed  into  the  mind  by 
more   ways   than  one)    by  a   frequent  return   of  the 
objects  or  actions  that  produce  them,  fix  themselves 
best  in  the  memory,  and  remain  clearest  and  longest 
there :  and  therefore  those  which  are  of  the  original 
qualities  of  bodies,  viz.,  solidity,  extension,  figure,  mo- 
tion, and  rest;  and  those  that  almost  constantly  affect 
our  bodies,  as  heat  and  cold ;  and  those  which  are  the 
affections  of  all  kinds  of  beings,  as  existence,  duration, 
and  number,  which  almost  every  object  that  affects  our 
senses,  every  thought  which  employs  our  minds,  bring 
along  with  them:  these,  I  say,  and  the  like  ideas,  are 
seldom  quite  lost  whilst  the  mind  retains  any  ideas  at  all. 

7.  In  remembering,  the  mind  is  often  active. —  In 
this  secondary  perception,  as  I  may  so  call  it,  or  view- 
ing again  the  ideas  that  are  lodged  in  the  memory, 
the  mind  is  oftentimes  more  than  barely  passive;  the 
appearances    of    those    dormant    pictures    depending 
sometimes  on  the  will.    The  mind  very  often  sets  itself 
on  work  in  search  of  some  hidden  idea,  and  turns,  as 
it  were,  the  eye  of  the  soul  upon  it ;  though  sometimes 
too  they  start  up  in  our  minds  of  their  own  accord, 
and  offer  themselves  to  the  understanding,  and  very 
often  are  roused  and  tumbled  out  of  their  dark  cells 
into  open  daylight  by  turbulent  and  tempestuous  pas- 
sions ;  our  affections  bringing  ideas  to  our  memory 
which  had  otherwise  lain  quiet  and  unregarded.     [This 


OF  RETENTION.  77 

farther  is  to  be  observed  concerning  ideas  lodged  in 
the  memory,  and  upon  occasion  revived  by  the  mind, 
—  that  they  are  not  only  (as  the  word  "  revive  "  im- 
ports) none  of  them  new  ones,  but  also  that  the  mind 
takes  notice  of  them  as  of  a  former  impression,  and 
renews  its  acquaintance  with  them  as  with  ideas  it  had 
known  before.  So  that  though  ideas  formerly  im- 
printed are  not  all  constantly  in  view,  yet  in  remem- 
brance they  are  constantly  known  to  be  such  as  have 
been  formerly  imprinted,  i.  e.,  in  view,  and  taken  notice 
of  before  by  the  understanding.] 

8.  Two  defects  in  the  memory,  oblivion  and  slow- 
ness.—  Memory,  in  an  intellectual  creature,  is  neces- 
sary in  the  next  degree  to  perception.  It  is  of  so 
great  moment,  that  where  it  is  wanting  all  the  rest 
of  our  faculities  are  in  a  great  measure  useless ;  and 
we  in  our  thoughts,  reasonings,  and  knowledge,  could 
not  proceed  beyond  present  objects,  were  it  not  for  the 
assistance  of  our  memories,  wherein  there  may  be  two 
defects. 

First,  That  it  loses  the  idea  quite;  and  so  far  it 
produces  perfect  ignorance.  For  since  we  can  know 
nothing  further  than  we  have  the  idea  of  it,  when  that 
is  gone  we  are  in  perfect  ignorance. 

Secondly,  That  it  moves  slowly,  and  retrieves  not 
the  ideas  that  it  has,  and  are  laid  up  in  store,  quick 
enough  to  serve  the  mind  upon  occasions.  This,  if  it 
be  to  a  great  degree,  is  stupidity ;  and  he  who  through 
this  default  in  his  memory  has  not  the  ideas  that  are 
really  preserved  there  ready  at  hand  when  need  and 
occasion  calls  for  them,  were  almost  as  good  be  with- 
out them  quite,  since  they  serve  him  to  little  purpose. 
The  dull  man  who  loses  the  opportunity  whilst  he  is 
seeking  in  his  mind  for  those  ideas  that  should  serve 


78       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

his  turn,  is  not  much  more  happy  in  his  knowledge 
than  one  that  is  perfectly  ignorant.  It  is  the  business 
therefore  of  the  memory  to  furnish  to  the  mind  those 
dormant  ideas  which  it  has  present  occasion  for;  in 
the  having  them  ready  at  hand  on  all  occasions,  con- 
sists that  which  we  call  invention,  fancy,  and  quick- 
ness of  parts. 

9.  [These  are  defects  we  may  observe  in  the  mem- 
ory of  one  man  compared  with  another.  There  is  an- 
other defect  which  we  may  conceive  to  be  in  the 
memory  of  man  in  general,  compared  with  some  'su- 
perior created  intellectual  beings,  which  in  this  faculty 
may  so  far  excel  man,  that  they  may  have  constantly 
in  view  the  whole  scene  of  all  their  former  actions, 
wherein  no  one  of  the  thoughts  they  have  ever  had 
may  slip  out  of  their  sight.  The  omniscience  of  God, 
who  knows  all  things,  past,  present,  and  to  come,  and 
to  whom  the  thoughts  of  men's  hearts  always  lie  open, 
may  satisfy  us  of  the  possibility  of  this.  For  who  can 
doubt  but  God  may  communicate  to  those  glorious 
spirits,  his  immediate  attendants,  any  of  his  perfec- 
tions in  what  proportion  he  pleases,  as  far  as  created 
finite  beings  can  be  capable?  It  is  reported  of  that 
prodigy  of  parts,  Monsieur  Pascal,  that,  till  the  decay 
of  his  health  had  impaired  his  memory,  he  forgot  noth- 
ing of  what  he  had  done,  read,  or  thought  in  any  part 
of  his  rational  age.  This  is  a  privilege  so  little  known 
to  most  men,  that  it  seems  almost  incredible  to  those 
who,  after  the  ordinary  way,  measure  all  others  by 
themselves ;  but  yet,  when  considered,  may  help  us 
to  enlarge  our  thoughts  towards  greater  perfections  of 
it  in  superior  ranks  of  spirits.  For  this  of  M.  Pascal 
was  still  with  the  narrowness  that  human  minds  are 
confined  to  here  —  of  having  great  variety  of  idea* 


OF  RETENTION.  79 

only  by  succession,  not  all  at  once :  whereas  the  several 
degrees  of  angels  may  probably  have  larger  views,  and 
some  of  them  be  endowed  with  capacities  able  to  retain 
together  and  constantly  set  before  them,  as  in  one 
picture,  all  their  past  knowledge  at  once.  This,  we 
may  conceive,  would  be  no  small  advantage  to  the 
knowledge  of  a  thinking  man,  if  all  his  past  thoughts 
and  reasonings  could  be  always  present  to  him ;  and 
therefore  we  may  suppose  it  one  of  those  ways  wherein 
the  knowledge  of  separate  spirits  may  exceedingly  sur- 
pass ours.] 

10.  Brutes  have  memory. —  This  faculty  of  laying 
up  and  retaining  the  ideas  that  are  brought  into  the 
mind,  several  other  animals  seem  to  have  to  a  great 
degree,  as  well  as  man.  For,  to  pass  by  other  in- 
stances, birds'  learning  of  tunes,  and  the  endeavours 
one  may  observe  in  them  to  hit  the  notes  right,  put 
it  past  doubt  with  me  that  they  have  perception,  and 
retain  ideas  in  their  memories,  and  use  them  for  pat- 
terns. For  it  seems  to  me  impossible  that  they  should 
endeavour  to  conform  their  voices  to  notes  (as  it  is 
plain  they  do)  of  which  they  had  no  ideas.  For 
though  I  should  grant  sound  may  mechanically  cause. 
a  certain  motion  of  the  animal  spirits  in  the  brains  of 
those  birds  whilst  the  tune  is  actually  playing,  and  that 
motion  may  be  continued  -on  to  the  muscles  of  the 
wings,  and  so  the  bird  mechanically  be  driven  away 
by  certain  noises,  because  this  may  tend  to  the  bird's 
preservation ;  yet  that  can  never  be  supposed  a  reason 
why  it  should  cause  mechanically  either  whilst  the  tune 
was  playing,  much  less  after  it  has  ceased,  such  a 
motion  of  the  organs  in  the  bird's  voice  as  should  con- 
form it  to  the  notes  of  a  foreign  sound,  which  imita- 
tion can  be  of  no  use  to  the  bird's  preservation.  But, 


80        CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

which  is  more,  it  cannot  with  any  appearance  of  rea- 
son be  supposed  (much  less  proved)  that  birds  with- 
out sense  and  memory  can  approach  their  notes,  nearer 
and  nearer  by  degrees,  to  a  tune  played  yesterday ; 
which  if  they  have  no  idea  of  it  in  their  memory  is 
now  nowhere,  nor  can  be  a  pattern  for  them  to  imi- 
tate, or  which  any  repeated  essays  can  bring  them 
nearer  to ;  since  there  is  no  reason  why  the  sound  of 
a  pipe  should  leave  traces  in  their  brains,  which  not 
at  first,  but  by  their  after  endeavours,  should  produce 
the  like  sounds ;  and  why  the  sounds  they  make  them- 
selves should  not  make  traces  which  they  should  fol- 
low, as  well  as  those  of  the  pipe,  is  impossible  to  con- 
ceive. 

CHAPTER  XL 

OF  DISCERNING,  AND  OTHER  OPERATIONS  OF  THE  MIND. 

i.  No  knozvledge  without  discerning. —  Another 
faculty  we  may  take  notice  of  in  our  minds,  is  that  of 
discerning  and  distinguishing  between  the  several  ideas 
it  has.  It  is  not  enough  to  have  a  confused  perception 
of  something  in  general :  unless  the  mind  had  a 
distinct  perception  of  different  objects  and  their 
qualities,  it  would  be  capable  of  very  little  knowl- 
edge; though  the  bodies  that  affect  us  were  as  busy 
about  us  as  they  are  now,  and  the  mind  were  con- 
tinually employed  in  thinking.  On  this  faculty  of  dis- 
tinguishing one  thing  from  another,  depends  the  evi- 
dence and  certainty  of  several  even  very  general 
propositions,  which  have  passed  for  innate  truths ; 
because  men,  overlooking  the  true  cause  why  those 
propositions  find  universal  assent,  impute  it  wholly  to 


DISCERNING  AND  OTHER  OPERATIONS.        81 

native  uniform  impressions :  whereas  it  in  truth  de- 
pends upon  this  clear  discerning  faculty  of  the  mind, 
whereby  it  perceives  two  ideas  to  be  the  same  or  dif- 
ferent. But  of  this  more  hereafter. 

2.  The  difference  of  wit  and  judgment. —  How 
much  the  imperfection  of  accurately  discriminating 
ideas  one  from  another  lies  either  in  the  dulness  or 
faults  of  the  organs  of  sense,  or  want  of  acuteness, 
exercise,  or  attention  in  the  understanding,  or  hasti- 
ness and  precipitancy  natural  to  some  tempers,  I  will 
not  here  examine :  it  suffices  to  take  notice,  that  this 
is  one  of  the  operations  that  the  mind  may  reflect  on 
and  observe  in  itself.  It  is  of  that  consequence  to  its 
other  knowledge,  that  so  far  as  this  faculty  is  in  itself 
dull,  or  not  rightly  made  use  of  for  the  distinguishing 
one  thing  from  another,  so  far  our  notions  are  con- 
fused, and  our  reason,  and  judgment  disturbed  or  mis- 
led. If  in  having  our  ideas  in  the  memory  ready  at 
hand  consists  quickness  of  parts;  in  this  of  having 
them  unconfused,  and  being  able  nicely  to  distinguish 
one  thing  from  another  where  there  is  but  the  least 
difference,  consists  in  a  great  measure  the  exactness  of 
judgment  and  clearness  of  reason  which  is  to  be  ob- 
served in  one  man  above  another.  And  hence,  per- 
haps, may  be  given  some  reason  of  that  common  ob- 
servation —  that  men  who  have  a  great  deal  of  wit 
and  prompt  memories,  have  not  always  the  clearest 
judgment  or  deepest  reason.  For,  wit  lying  most  in 
the  assemblage  of  ideas,  and  putting  those  together 
with  quickness  and  variety  wherein  can  be  found  any 
resemblance  or  congruity,  thereby  to  make  up  pleasant 
pictures  and  agreeable  visions  in  the  fancy;  judg- 
ment, on  the  contrary,  lies  quite  on  the  other  side,  in 
separating  carefully  one  from  another  ideas  wherein 


82       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

can  be  found  the  least  difference,  thereby  to  avoid 
being  misled  by  similitude  and  by  affinity  to  take  one 
thing  for  another.  This  is  a  way  of  proceeding  quite 
contrary  to  metaphor  and  allusion,  wherein  for  the 
most  part  lies  that  entertainment  and  pleasantry  of  wit 
which  strikes  so  lively  on  the  fancy,  and  therefore 
so  acceptable  to  all  people;  because  its  beauty  ap- 
pears at  first  sight,  and  there  is  required  no  labour  of 
thought  to  examine  what  truth  or  reason  there  is  in  it. 
The  mind,  without  looking  any  farther,  rests  satisfied 
with  the  agreeableness  of  the  picture  and  the  gaiety 
of  the  fancy;  and  it  is  a  kind  of  affront  to  go  about 
to  examine  it  by  the  severe  rules  of  truth  and  good 
reason;  whereby  it  appears  that  it  consists  in  some- 
thing that  is  not  perfectly  conformable  to  them. 

3.  Clearness  alone  hinders  confusion. —  To  the  well 
distinguishing  our  ideas,  it  chiefly  contributes  that 
they  be  clear  and  determinate ;  and  when  they  are  so, 
it  will  not  breed  any  confusion  or  mistake  about  them, 
though  the  senses  should  (as  sometimes  they  do)  con- 
vey them  from  the  same  object  differently  on  different 
occasions,  and  so  seem  to  err.  For  though  a  man  in 
a  fever  should  from  sugar  have  a  bitter  taste,  which 
at  another  time  would  produce  a  sweet  one,  yet  the 
idea  of  bitter  in  that  man's  mind  would  be  as  clear 
and  distinct  from  the  idea  of  sweet,  as  if  he  had  tasted 
only  gall.  Nor  does  it  make  any  more  confusion  be- 
tween the  two  ideas  of  sweet  and  bitter,  that  the  same 
sort  of  body  produces  at  one  time  one  and  at  another 
time  another  idea  by  the  taste,  than  it  makes  a  confu- 
sion in  two  ideas  of  white  and  sweet,  or  white  and 
round,  that  the  same  piece  of  sugar  produces  them 
both  in  the  mind  at  the  same  time.  And  the  ideas  of 
orange-colour  and  azure  that  are  produced  in  the  mind 


DISCERNING  AND  OTHER  OPERATIONS.        83 

by  the  same  parcel  of  the  infusion  of  lignum  nephriti- 
cum,  are  no  less  distinct  ideas  than  those  of  the  same 
colours  taken  from  two  very  different  bodies. 

4.  Comparing. —  The    comparing    them    one    with 
another,  in  respect  of  extent,  degrees,  time,  place,  or 
any  other  circumstances,  is  another  operation  of  the 
mind  about  its  ideas,  and  is  that  upon  which  depends 
all  that  large  tribe  of  ideas  comprehended  under  re- 
lation ;  which  of  how  vast  an  extent  it  is,  I  shall  have 
occasion  to  consider  hereafter. 

5.  Brutes    compare,    but    imperfectly. —  How    far 
brutes  partake  in  this  faculty  is  not  easy  to  determine ; 
I  imagine  they  have  it  not  in  any  great  degree :  for 
though    they    probably    have    several    ideas    distinct 
enough,  yet  it  seems  to  me  to  be  the  prerogative  of 
human  understanding,  when  it  has  sufficiently  distin- 
guished any  ideas  so  as  to  perceive  them  to  be  per- 
fectly different,  and  so  consequently  two,  to  cast  about 
and  consider  in  wrhat  circumstances  they  are  capable 
tp  be  compared.     And  therefore,  I  think,  beasts  com- 
pare not  their  ideas  farther  than  some  sensible  cir- 
cumstances  annexed  to  the  objects   themelves.     The 
other  power  of  comparing  which  may  be  observed  in 
men,  belonging  to  general  ideas,  and  useful  only  to 
abstract    reasonings,    we    may    probably    conjecture 
beasts  have  not. 

6.  Compounding. —  The    next    operation    we    may 
observe  in  the  mind  about  its  ideas  is  composition ; 
whereby  it  puts  together  several  of  those  simple  ones 
it  has  received  from  sensation  and  reflection,  and  com- 
bines them  into  complex  ones.    Under  this  of  compo- 
sition may  be  reckoned  also  that  of  enlarging ;  wherein 
though  the  composition  does  not  so  much  appear  as 
in  more  complex  ones,  yet  it  is  nevertheless  a  putting 


84       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

several  ideas  together,  though  of  the  same  kind. 
Thus,  by  adding  several  units  together  we  make  the 
idea  of  a  dozen,  and  putting  together  the  repeated 
ideas  of  several  perches  we  frame  that  of  a  furlong. 

7.  Brutes  compound  but  little. —  In  this  also  I  sup- 
pose brutes  come  far  short  of  men.     For  though  they 
take  in  and  retain  together  several  combinations  of 
simple  ideas  (as  possibly  the  shape,  smell,  and  voice 
of  his  master,  make  up  the  complex  idea  a  dog  has 
of  him,  or  rather,  are  so  many  distinct  marks  whereby 
he  knows  him)  ;  yet  I  do  not  think  they  do  of  them- 
selves ever  compound  them  and  make  complex  ideas. 
And  perhaps  even  where  we  think  they  have  complex 
ideas,  it  is  only  one  simple  one  that  directs  them  in 
the  knowledge  of  several  things,  which  possibly  they 
distinguish  less  by  their  sight  than  we  imagine.     For 
I  have  been  credibly  informed  that  a  bitch  will  nurse, 
play  with,  and  be  fond  of  young  foxes,  as  much  as 
and  in  place  of  her  puppies,  if  you  can  but  get  them 
once  to  suck  her  so  long  that  her  milk  may  go  through 
them.     [And  those  animals  which  have  a  numerous 
brood  of  young  ones  at  once,  appear  not  to  have  any 
knowledge   of   their   number;    for   though   they    are 
mightily  concerned  for  any  of  their  young  that  are 
taken  from  them  whilst  they  are  in  sight  or  hearing, 
yet  if  one  or  two  of  them  be  stolen  from  them  in  their 
absence  or   without   noise,  they   appear  not  to  miss 
them,  or  to  have  any  sense  that  their  number  is  les- 
sened.] 

8.  Naming. —  When    children    have    by    repeated 
sensations   got   ideas   fixed   in   their   memories,   they 
begin  by  degrees  to  learn  the  use  of  signs.    And  when 
they  have  got  the  skill  to  apply  the  organs  of  speech 
to  the  framing  of  articulate  sounds,  they  begin  to  make 


DISCERNING  AND  OTHER  OPERATIONS.        85 

use  of  words  to  signify  their  ideas  to  others.  These 
verbal  signs  they  sometimes  borrow  from  others,  and 
sometimes  make  themselves,  as  one  may  observe 
among  the  new  and  unusual  names  children  often  give 
to  things  in  their  first  use  of  language. 

9.  Abstraction. —  The  use  of  words  then  being  to 
stand  as  outward  marks  of  our  internal  ideas,  and 
those  ideas  being  taken  from  particular  things,  if  every 
particular  idea  that  we  take  in  should  have  a  distinct 
name,  names  must  be  endless.     To  prevent  this,  the 
mind  makes  the  particular  ideas,  received  from  par- 
ticular objects,  to  become  general;  which  is  done  by 
considering  them  as  they  are  in  the  mind  such  appear- 
ances separate  from  all  other  existences,  and  the  cir- 
cumstances of  real  existence,  as  time,  place,  or  any 
other  concomitant  ideas.    This  is  called  "  abstraction," 
whereby  ideas  taken   from  particular  beings  become 
general  representatives  of  all  of  the  same  kind;  and 
their  names,  general   names,   applicable  to  whatever 
exists  conformable  to  such  abstract  ideas.     Such  pre- 
cise, naked  appearances  in  the  mind,  without  consider- 
ing how,  whence,  or  with  what  others  they  came  there, 
the  understanding  lays  up  (with  names  commonly  an- 
nexed to  them)   as  the  standards  to  rank  real  exist- 
ences into  sorts,  as  they  agree  with  these  patterns,  and 
to    denominate   them    accordingly.     Thus,    the    same 
colour  being  observed  to-day  in  chalk  or  snow,  which 
the  mind  yesterday  received  from  milk,  it  considers 
that  appearance  alone,  makes  it  a  representative  of  all 
of  that  kind,  and,  having  given  it  the  name  "  white- 
ness,"  it  by   that   sound   signifies   the   same   quality 
wheresoever  to  be  imagined  or  met  with;  and  thus 
universals,  whether  ideas  or  terms,  are  made. 

10.  Brutes  abstract   not. —  If  it  may  be   doubted 


86       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

whether  beasts  compound  and  enlarge  their  ideas  that 
way  to  any  degree,  this,  I  think,  I  may  be  positive  in, 
that  the  power  of  abstracting  is  not  at  all  in  them, 
and  that  the  having  of  general  ideas  is  that  which 
puts  a  perfect  distinction  between  man  and  brutes,  and 
is  an  excellency  which  the  faculties  of  brutes  do  by  no 
means  attain  to.  For  it  is  evident  we  observe  no  foot- 
steps in  them  of  making  use  of  general  signs  for  uni- 
versal ideas;  from  which  we  have  reason  to  imagine, 
that  they  have  not  the  faculty  of  abstracting  or  making 
general  ideas,  since  they  have  no  use  of  words  or  any 
other  general  signs. 

ii.  Nor  can  it  be  imputed  to  their  want  of  fit 
organs  to  frame  articulate  sounds,  that  they  have  no 
use  or  knowledge  of  general  words :  since  many  of 
them,  we  find,  can  fashion  such  sounds  and  pronounce 
words  distinctly  enough,  but  never  with  any  such  ap- 
plication. And,  on  the  other  side,  men  who,  through 
some  defect  in  the  organs,  want  words,  yet  fail  not  to 
express  their  universal  ideas  by  signs,  which  serve 
them  instead  of  general  words;  a  faculty  which  we 
see  beasts  come  short  in.  And  therefore,  I  think,  we 
may  suppose  that  it  is  in  this  that  the  species  of  brutes 
are  discriminated  from  man ;  and  it  is  that  proper  dif- 
ference wherein  they  are  wholly  separated,  and  which 
at  last  widens  to  so  vast  a  distance.  For  if  they  have 
any  ideas  at  all,  and  are  not  bare  machines  (as  some 
would  have  them),  we  cannot  deny  them  to  have  some 
reason.  It  seems  as  evident  to  me  that  they  do,  some 
of  them,  in  certain  instances,  reason,  as  that  they  have 
sense ;  but  it  is  only  in  particular  ideas,  just  as  they  re- 
ceived them  from  their  senses.  They  are,  the  best  of 
them,  tied  up  within  those  narrow  bounds,  and  have 


DISCERNING  AND  OTHER  OPERATIONS.        87 

not  (as  I  think)  the  faculty  to  enlarge  them  by  any 
kind  of  abstraction. 

12.  Idiots  and  madmen. —  How  far  idiots  are  con- 
cerned in  the  want  or  weakness  of  any  or  all  of  the 
foregoing  faculties,  an  exact  observation  of  their  sev- 
eral ways  of  faltering  would  no  doubt  discover.     For 
those  who  either  perceive  but  dully,  or  retain  the  ideas 
that  come  into  their  minds  but  ill,  who  cannot  readily 
excite  or  compound  them,  will  have  little  matter  to 
think  on.     Those  who  cannot  distinguish,   compare, 
and  abstract,  would  hardly  be  able  to  understand  and 
make  use  of  language,  or  judge,  or  reason,  to  any 
tolerable  degree ;  but  only  a  little  and  imperfectly  about 
things  present  and  very  familiar  to  their  senses.    And 
indeed  any  of  the  fore-mentioned  faculties,  if  wanting 
or  out  of  order,  produce  suitable  defects  in  men's  un- 
derstandings and  knowledge. 

13.  In  fine,  the  defect  in  naturals  seems  to  proceed 
from  want  of  quickness,  activity,  and  motion  in  the 
intellectual   faculties,   whereby   they  are   deprived  of 
reason;  whereas  madmen,  on  the  other  side,  seem  to 
suffer  by  the  other  extreme.     For  they  do  not  appear 
to  me  to  have  lost  the  faculty  of  reasoning;  but,  hav- 
ing joined  together  some  ideas  very  wrongly,  they 
mistake  them  for  truths,  and  they  err  as  men  do  that 
argue  right  from  wrong  principles.     For  by  the  vio- 
lence of  their  imaginations  having  taken  their  fancies 
for  realities,  they  make  right  deductions  from  them. 
Thus  you  shall  find  a  distracted  man,  fancying  himself 
a  king,  with  a  right  inference,  require  suitable  attend- 
ance, respect,  and  obedience ;  others,  who  have  thought 
themselves  made  of  glass,  have  used  the  caution  neces- 
say  to  preserve  such  brittle  bodies.     Hence  it  comes 
to  pass,  that  a  man  who  is  very  sober  and  of  a  right 


88      CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

understanding  in  all  other  things,  may  in  one  particu- 
lar be  as  frantic  as  any  in  Bedlam;  if  either  by  any 
sudden  very  strong  impression,  or  long  fixing  his 
fancy  upon  one  sort  of  thoughts,  incoherent  ideas  have 
been  cemented  together  so  powerfully  as  to  remain 
united.  But  there  are  degrees  of  madness,  as  of  folly ; 
the  disorderly  jumbling  ideas  together  is  in  some  more 
and  some  less.  In  short,  herein  seems  to  lie  the  dif- 
ference between  idiots  and  madmen,  that  madmen  put 
wrong  ideas  together,  and  so  make  wrong  proposi- 
tions, but  argue  and  reason  right  from  them ;  but  idiots 
make  very  few  or  no  propositions,  and  reason  scarce 
at  all. 

14.  Method. —  These,  I  think,  are  the  first  facul- 
.ties  and  operations  of  the  mind  which  it  makes  use  of 
in  understanding;  and  though  they  are  exercised 
about  all  its  ideas  in  general,  yet  the  instances  I  have 
hitherto  given  have  been  chiefly  in  simple  ideas ;  and 
I  have  subjoined  the  explication  of  these  faculties  of 
the  mind  to  that  of  simple  ideas,  before  I  come  to  what 
I  have  to  say  concerning  complex  ones,  for  these  fol- 
lowing reasons: — 

First,  Because,  several  of  these  faculties  being  exer- 
cised at  first  principally  about  simple  ideas,  we  might, 
by  following  nature  in  its  ordinary  method,  trace  and 
discover  them  in  their  rise,  progress,  and  gradual  im- 
provements. 

Secondly,  Because,  observing  the  faculties  of  the 
mind,  how  they  operate  about  simple  ideas,  which  are 
usually  in  most  men's  minds  much  more  clear,  precise, 
and  distinct  than  complex  ones,  we  may  the  better  ex- 
amine and  learn  how  the  mind  extracts,  denominates, 
compares,  and  exercises  in  its  other  operations  about 


DISCERNING  AND  OTHER  OPERATIONS.        89 

those  which  are  complex,  wherein  we  are  much  more 
liable  to  mistake. 

Thirdly,  Because  these  very  operations  of  the  mind 
about  ideas  received  from  sensations  are  themselves, 
when  reflected  on,  another  set  of  ideas,  derived  from 
that  other  source  of  our  knowledge  which  I  call  "  re- 
flection ;"  and  therefore  fit  to  be  considered  in  this 
place  after  the  simple  ideas  of  sensation.  Of  com- 
pounding, comparing,  abstracting,  &c.,  I  have  but  just 
spoken,  having  occasion  to  treat  of  them  more  at  large 
in  other  places. 

15.  These  are  the  beginnings  of  human  knowledge. 
—  And  thus  I  have  given  a  short  and,  I  think,  true 
history  of  the  first  beginnings  of  human  knowledge, 
whence  the  mind  has  its  first  objects,  and  by  what 
steps  it  makes  its  progress  to  the  laying  in  and  storing 
up  those  ideas  out  of  which  is  to  be  framed  all  the 
knowledge  it  is  capable  of ;  wherein   I  must  appeal 
to  experience  and  observation  whether  I  am  in  the 
right :  the  best  way  to  come  to  truth  being  to  examine 
things  as  really  they  are,  and  not  to  conclude  they  are 
as  we  fancy  of  ourselves,  or  have  been  taught  by 
others  to  imagine. 

16.  Appeal  to  experience.— To  deal  truly,  this  is 
the  only  way  that  I  can  discover  whereby  the  ideas  of 
things  are  brought  into  the  understanding:  if  other 
men  have  either  innate   ideas  or  infused  principles, 
they  have  reason  to  enjoy  them ;  and  if  they  are  sure 
of  it,  it  is  impossible  for  others  to  deny  them  the  priv- 
ilege that  they  have  above  their  neighbours.     I  can 
speak  but  of  what  I  find  in  myself,  and  is  agreeable 
to  those  notions  which,  if  we  will  examine  the  whole 
course  of  men  in  their  several  ages,  countries,   and 
educations,  seem  to  depend  on  those  foundations  which 


QO       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

I  have  laid,  and  to  correspond  with  this  method  in  all 
the  parts  and  degrees  thereof. 

17.  Dark  room. —  I  pretend  not  to  teach,  but  to 
inquire;  and  therefore  cannot  but  confess  here  again, 
that  external  and  internal  sensation  are  the  only  pas- 
sages that  I  can  find  of  knowledge  to  the  understand- 
ing. These  alone,  as  far  as  I  can  discover,  are  the 
windows  by  which  light  is  let  into  this  dark  room. 
For  methinks  the  understanding  is  not  much  unlike  a 
closet  wholly  shut  from  light,  with  only  some  little 
openings  left  to  let  in  external  visible  resemblances  or 
ideas  of  things  without :  [would  the  pictures  coming 
into  such  a  dark  room  but  stay  there,]  and  lie  so  orderly 
as  to  be  found  upon  occasion,  it  would  very  much 
resemble  the  understanding  of  a  man  in  reference  to 
all  objects  of  sight,  and  the  ideas  of  them. 

These  are  my  guesses  concerning  the  means  where- 
by the  understanding  comes  to  have  and  retain  simple 
ideas  and  the  modes  of  them,  with  some  other  opera- 
tions about  them.  I  proceed  now  to  examine  some  of 
these  simple  ideas  and  their  modes  a  little  more  par- 
ticularly. 

CHAPTER  XII. 

OF    COMPLEX    IDEAS. 

i.  Made  by  the  mind  out  of  simple  ones. —  We 
have  hitherto  considered  those  ideas,  in  the  reception 
whereof  the  mind  is  only  passive,  which  are  those 
simple  ones  received  from  sensation  and  reflection  be- 
fore mentioned,  whereof  the  mind  cannot  make  one 
to  itself,  nor  have  any  idea  which  does  not  wholly 
consist  of  them.  [But  as  the  mind  is  wholly  passive 


OF  COMPLEX  IDEAS.  91 

in  the  reception  of  all  its  simple  ideas,  so  it  exerts 
several  acts  of  its  own,  whereby  out  of  its  simple  ideas, 
as  the  materials  and  foundations  of  the  rest,  the  other 
are  framed.  The  acts  of  the  mind  wherein  it  exerts 
in  power  over  its  simple  ideas  are  chiefly  these  three : 
(i.)  Combining  several  simple  ideas  into  one  com- 
pound one;  and  thus  all  complex  ideas  are  made.  (2.) 
The  second  is  bringing  two  ideas,  whether  simple  or 
complex,  together,  and  setting  them  by  one  another, 
so  as  to  take  a  view  of  them  at  once,  without  uniting 
them  into  one ;  by  which  way  it  gets  all  its  ideas  of  rela- 
tions. (3.)  The  third  is  separating  them  from  all  other 
ideas  that  accompany  them  in  their  real  existence ;  this 
is  called  "  abstraction : "  and  thus  all  its  general  ideas 
are  made.  This  shows  man's  power  and  its  way  of 
operation  to  be  much  the  same  in  the  material  and 
intellectual  world.  For,  the  materials  in  both  being 
such  as  he  has  no  power  over,  either  to  make  or 
destroy,  all  that  man  can  do  is  either  to  unite  them 
together,  or  to  set  them  by  one  another,  or  wholly 
separate  them.  I  shall  here  begin  with  the  first  of 
these  in  the  consideration  of  complex  ideas,  and  come 
to  the  other  two  in  their  due  places.]  As  simple  ideas 
are  observed  to  exist  in  several  combinations  united 
together,  so  the  mind  has  a  power  to  consider  several 
of  them  united  together  as  one  idea ;  and  that  not  only 
as  they  are  united  in  external  objects,  but  as  itself  has 
joined  them.  Ideas  thus  made  up  of  several  simple 
ones  put  together  I  call  "  complex ;"  such  as  are 
beauty,  gratitude,  a  man,  an  army,  the  universe ;  which, 
though  complicated  of  various  simple  ideas  or  complex 
ideas  made  up  of  simple  ones,  yet  are,  when  the  mind 
pleases,  considered  each  by  itself  as  one  entire  thing, 
and  signified  by  one  name. 


92       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

2.  Made  voluntarily. —  In  this  faculty  of  repeating 
and   joining  together  its   ideas,   the   mind  has  great 
power  in  varying  and  multiplying  the  objects  of  its 
thoughts  infinitely  beyond  what  sensation  or  reflection 
furnished  it  with;  but  all  this  still  confined  to  those 
simple  ideas  which  it  received  from  those  two  sources, 
and  which  are  the  ultimate  materials  of  all  its  com- 
positions.   For,  simple  ideas  are  all  from  things  them- 
selves ;  and  of  these  the  mind  can  have  no  more  nor 
other  than  what  are  suggested  to  it.     It  can  have  no 
other  ideas  of  sensible  qualities  than  what  come  from 
without  by  the  senses,  nor  any  ideas  of  other  kind  of 
operations  of  a  thinking  substance  than  what  it  finds 
ta  itself:  but  when  it  has  once  got  these  simple  ideas, 
it  is  not  confined  barely  to  observation,  and  what  offers 
itself  from  without;   it  can,  by  its  own  power,  put 
together  those  ideas  it  has,  and  make  new  complex 
ones  which  it  never  received  so  united. 

3.  Are   either  modes,   substances,   or  relations. — 
Complex  ideas,    however    compounded    and    decom- 
pounded,  though   their  number   be   infinite,  and   the 
variety  endless  wherewith  they  fill  and  entertain  the 
thoughts  of  men,  yet  I  think  they  may  be  all  reduced 
under  these  three  heads:   I.  Modes.     2.  Substances. 
3.  Relations. 

4.  Modes. —  First.     "  Modes"  I  call  such  complex 
ideas    which,    however   compounded,    contain    not    in 
them  the  supposition  of  subsisting  by  themselves,  but 
are  considered  as  dependences  on,  or  affections  of,  sub- 
stances; such   are  the  ideas  signified  by  the  words, 
"  triangle,  gratitude,  murder,"  &c.     And  if  in  this  I 
use  the  word  "  mode  "  in  somewhat  a  different  sense 
from  its  ordinary  signification,  I  beg  pardon ;  it  being 
unavoidable  in  discourses  differing  from  the  ordinary 


OF  COMPLEX  IDEAS.  93 

received  notions,  either  to  make  new  words  or  to  use 
old  words  in  somewhat  a  new  signification:  the  latter 
whereof,  in  our  present  case,  is  perhaps  the  more  toler- 
able of  the  two. 

5.  Simple   and   mixed   modes. —  Of   these    modes 
there  are  two  sorts  which  deserve  distinct  considera- 
tion.   First.  There  are  some  which  are  only  variations 
or   different  combinations   of  the   same   simple   idea, 
without  the  mixture  of  any  other,  as  a  dozen,  or  score ; 
which  are  nothing  but  the  ideas  of  so  many  distinct 
units  added  together :  and  these  I  call  "  simple  modes," 
as  being  contained  within  the  bounds  of  one  simple 
idea.      Secondly.  There    are    others    compounded    of 
simple  ideas,  of  several  kinds,  put  together  to  make 
one  complex  one ;  v.  g.,  beauty,  consisting  of  a  certain 
composition  of  colour  and  figure,  causing  delight  in 
the  beholder ;  theft,  which,  being  the  concealed  change 
of  the  possession  of  any  thing,  without  the  consent  of 
the  proprietor,  contains,  as  is  visible,  a  combination  of 
several  ideas  of  several  kinds ;  and  these  "  I  call  mixed 
modes." 

6.  Substances     single     or     collective. —  Secondly. 
The    ideas   of   substances   are   such   combinations   of 
simple  ideas  as  are  taken  to  represent  distinct  particu- 
lar things  subsisting  by  themselves,  in  which  the  sup- 
posed or  confused  idea  of  substance,  such  as  it  is,  is 
always  the  first  and  chief.     Thus,  if  to  substance  be 
joined  the  simple  idea  of  a  certain  dull,  whitish  colour, 
with  certain  degrees  of  weight,  hardness,  ductility,  and 
fusibility,  we  have  the  idea  of  lead;  and  a  combina- 
tion of  the  ideas  of  a  certain  sort  of  figure,  with  the 
powers  of  motion,  thought,  and  reasoning,  joined  to 
substance,  make  the  ordinary  idea  of  a  man.     Now  of 
substances  also  there  are  two  sorts  of  ideas,  one  of 


94       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

single  substances,  as  they  exist  separately,  as  of  a  man 
or  a  sheep ;  the  other  of  several  of  those  put  together, 
as  an  army  of  men  or  flock  of  sheep ;  which  collective 
ideas  of  several  substances  thus  put  together,  are  as 
much  each  of  them  one  single  idea  as  that  of  a  man 
or  an  unit. 

7.  Relation. —  Thirdly.     The  last  sort  of  complex 
ideas  is  that  we  call  "  Relation,"  which  consists  in  the 
consideration  and  comparing  one  idea  with  another. 
Of  these  several  kinds  we  shall  treat  in  their  order. 

8.  The  abstrusest  ideas  from  the  two  sources. —  If 
we  trace  the  progress  of  our  minds,  and   with   at- 
tention  observe   how   it   repeats,   adds  together,   and 
unites    its    simple   ideas    received    from   sensation   or 
reflection,  it  will  lead  us  farther  than  at  first  perhaps 
we  should  have  imagined.    And  I  believe  we  shall  find, 
if  we  warily  observe  the  originals  of  our  notions,  that 
even  the  most  abstruse  ideas,  how  remote  soever  they 
may  seem  from  sense,  or  from  any  operation  of  our 
own  minds,  are  yet  only  such  as  the  understanding 
frames   to   itself,  by  repeating  and   joining  together 
ideas  that  it  had  either  from  objects  of  sense,  or  from 
its  own  operations  about  them  ;  so  that  those  even  large 
and  abstract  ideas  are  derived  from  sensation  or  reflec- 
tion, being  no  other  than  what  the  mind,  by  the  ordi- 
nary use  of  its  own  faculties,  employed  about  ideas  re- 
ceived from  objects  of  sense,  or  from  the  operations 
it  observes  in  itself  about  them,  may  and  does  attain 
unto.     This  I  shall  endeavour  to  show  in  the  ideas 
we  have  of  space,  time,  and  infinity,  and  some  few 
other  that  seem  the  most  remote  from  those  originals. 


OF  THE  SIMPLE  MODES  OF  SPACE.  95 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

OF  SIMPLE  MODES;  AND  FIRST,  OF  THE  SIMPLE  MODEU 
OF  SPACE. 

i.  Simple  modes. —  Though  in  the  foregoing  part 
I  have  often  mentioned  simple  ideas,  which  are  truly 
the  materials  of  all  our  knowledge :  yet,  having  treated 
of  them  there  rather  in  the  way  that  they  come  into 
the  mind  than  as  distinguished  from  others  more  com- 
pounded, it  will  not  be  perhaps  amiss  to  take  a  view 
of  some  of  them  again  under  this  consideration,  and 
examine  those  different  modifications  of  the  same  idea, 
which  the  mind  either  finds  in  things  existing,  or  is 
able  to  make  within  itself,  without  the  help  of  any 
extrinsical  object,  or  any  foreign  suggestion. 

Those  modifications  of  any  one  simple  idea  (which 
as  has  been  said,  I  call  "  simple  modes  "),  are  as  per- 
fectly different  and  distinct  ideas  in  the  mind  as  those 
of  the  greatest  distance  or  contrariety ;  for  the  idea  of 
two  is  as  distinct  from  that  of  one  as  blueness  from 
heat,  or  either  of  them  from  any  number ;  and  yet  it  is 
made  up  only  of  that  simple  of  idea  of  an  unit  re- 
peated ;  and  repetitions  of  this  kind  joined  together 
make  those  distinct  simple  modes  of  a  dozen,  a  gross, 
a  million. 

******** 
******** 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

OF  INFINITY. 

I.     Infinity,   in   its  original  intention,  attributed  to 
space,  duration,  and  number. —  He  that  would  know 


96       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

what  kind  of  idea  it  is  to  which  we  give  the  name  of 
"  infinity,"  cannot  do  it  better  than  by  considering  to 
what  infinity  is  by  the  mind  more  immediately  at- 
tributed, and  then  how  the  mind  comes  to  frame  it. 

Finite  and  infinite  seem  to  me  to  be  looked  upon  by 
the  mind  as  the  modes  of  quantity,  and  to  be  attributed 
primarily  in  their  first  designation  only  to  those  things 
which  have  parts,  and  are  capable  of  increase  or 
diminution  by  the  addition  or  subtraction  of  any  the 
least  part;  and  such  are  the  ideas  of  space,  duration, 
and  number,  which  we  have  considered  in  the  fore- 
going chapters.  It  is  true  that  we  cannot  but  be 
assured  that  the  great  God,  of  whom  and  from  whom 
are  all  things,  is  incomprehensibly  infinite:  but  yet 
when  we  apply  to  that  first  and  supreme  Being  our 
idea  of  infinite,  in  our  weak  and  narrow  thoughts,  we 
do  it  primarily  in  respect  of  his  duration  and  ubiquity ; 
and,  I  think,  more  figuratively  to  his  power,  wisdom, 
and  goodness,  and  other  attributes,  which  are  properly 
inexhaustible  and  incomprehensible,  &c.  For  when  we 
call  them  infinite,  we  have  no  other  idea  of  this  in- 
finity but  what  carries  with  it  some  reflection  on  and 
imitation  of  that  number  or  extent  of  the  acts  or 
objects  of  God's  power,  wisdom,  and  goodness,  which 
can  never  be  supposed  so  great  or  so  many,  which 
these  attributes  wrill  not  always  surmount  and  exceed, 
let  us  multiply  them  in  our  thoughts  as  far  as  we  can, 
with  all  the  infinity  of  endiess  number.  I  do  not  pre- 
tend to  say  how  these  attributes  are  in  God,  who  is 
infinitely  beyond  the  reach  of  our  narrow  capacities ; 
they  do,  without  doubt,  contain  in  them  all  possible 
perfection:  but  this,  I  say,  is  our  way  of  conceiving 
them,  and  these  our  ideas  of  their  infinity. 

2.     The  idea  of  Unite  easily  got. —  Finite  then  and 


OF  INFINITY.  97 

infinite  being  by  the  mind  looked  on  as  modifications 
of  expansion  and  duration,  the  next  thing  to  be  con- 
sidered is,  how  the  mind  comes  by  them.  As  for  the 
idea  of  finite,  there  is  no  great  difficulty.  The  obvious 
portions  of  extension  that  affect  our  senses  carry  with 
them  into  the  mind  the  idea  of  finite ;  and  the  ordinary 
periods  of  succession  whereby  we  measure  time  and 
duration,  as  hours,  days  and  years,  are  bounded 
lengths.  The  difficulty  is,  how  we  come  by  those 
boundless  ideas  of  eternity  and  immensity,  since  the 
objects  which  we  converse  with  come  so  much  short 
of  any  approach  or  proportion  to  that  largeness. 

3.  How  we  come  by  the  idea  of  infinity. —  Every 
one  that  has  any  idea  of  any  stated  lengths  of  space, 
as  a  foot,  finds  that  he  can  repeat  that  idea;  and,  join- 
ing it  to  the  former,  make  the  idea  of  two  feet,  and, 
by  the  addition  of  a  third,  three  feet,  and  so  on,  with- 
out ever  coming  to  an  end  of  his  additions,  whether  of 
the  same  idea  of  a  foot,  or,  if  he  pleases,  of  doubling 
it,  or  any  other  idea  he  has  of  any  length,  as  a  mile,  or 
diameter  of  the  earth,  or  of  the  orbis  ma  gnus;  for, 
whichever  of  these  he  takes,  and  how  often  soever 
he  doubles  or  any  otherwise  multiplies  it,  he  finds  that, 
after  he  has  continued  his  doubling  in  his  thoughts 
and  enlarged  his  idea  as  much  as  he  pleases,  he  has 
no  more  reason  to  stop,  nor  is  one  jot  nearer  the  end 
of  such  addition  than  he  was  at  first  setting  out:  the 
power  of  enlarging  his  idea  of  space  by  farther  addi- 
tions remaining  still  the  same,  he  hence  takes  the  idea 
of  infinite  space. 

4.  Our  idea  of  space  boundless. —  This,  I  think,  is 
the  way  whereby  the  mind  gets  the  idea  of  infinite  space. 
It  is  a  quite  different  consideration  to  examine  whether 
the  mind  has  the  idea  of  such  a  boundless  space  actually 


98       CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

existing,  since  our  ideas  are  not  always  proofs  of  the 
existence  of  things;  but  yet,  since  this  comes  here  in 
our  way,  I  suppose  I  may  say  that  we  are  apt  to  think 
that  space  in  itself  is  actually  boundless,  to  which  im- 
agination the  idea  of  space  or  expansion  of  itself  natur- 
ally leads  us.  For,  it  being  considered  by  us  either  as 
the  extension  of  body,  or  as  existing  by  itself,  without 
any  solid  matter  taking  it  up  ( for  of  such  a  void  space 
we  have  not  only  the  idea,  but  I  have  proved,  as  I 
think,  from  the  motion  of  body,  its  necessary  exist- 
ence), it  is  impossible  the  mind  should  be  ever  able  to 
find  or  suppose  any  end  of  it,  or  be  stopped  any  where 
in  its  progress  in  this  space,  how  far  soever  it  extends 
its  thoughts.  Any  bounds  made  with  body,  even 
adamantine  walls,  are  so  far  from  putting  a  stop  to 
the  mind  in  its  farther  progress  in  space  and  exten- 
sion, that  it  rather  facilitates  and  enlarges  it:  for  so 
far  as  that  body  reaches,  so  far  no  one  can  doubt  of 
extension;  and  when  we  are  come  to  the  utmost  ex- 
tremity of  body,  what  is  there  that  can  there  put  a  stop, 
and  satisfy  the  mind  that  it  is  at  the  end  of  space, 
when  it  perceives  it  is  not;  nay,  when  it  is 
satisfied  that  body  itself  can  move  into  it? 
For  if  it  be  necessary  for  the  motion  of  body 
that  there  should  be  an  empty  space,  though  never 
so  little,  here  amongst  bodies ;  and  it  be  possible 
for  body  to  move  in  or  through  that  empty  space  (nay, 
it  is  impossible  for  any  particle  of  matter  to  move  but 
into  an  empty  space)  ;  the  same  possibility  of  a  body's 
moving  into  a  void  space  beyond  the  utmost  bounds  of 
body,  as  well  as  into  a  void  space  interspersed  amongst 
bodies,  will  always  remain  clear  and  evident ;  the  idea 
of  empty  pure  space,  whether  within  or  beyond  the 
confines  of  all  bodies,  being  exactly  the  same,  differing 


OF  INFINITY.  99 

not  in  nature,  though  in  bulk ;  and  there  being  nothing 
to  hinder  body  from  moving  into  it :  so  that  wherever 
the  mind  places  itself  by  any  thought,  either  amongst 
or  remote  from  all  bodies,  it  can,  in  this  uniform  idea 
of  space,  nowhere  find  any  bounds,  any  end ;  and  so 
must  necessarily  conclude  it,  by  the  very  nature  and 
idea  of  each  part  of  it,  to  be  actually  infinite. 

5.  And  so  of  duration. —  As,  by  the  power  we  find 
in  ourselves  of  repeating  as  often  as  we  will  any  idea 
of  space,  we  get  the  idea  of  immensity ;  so,  by  being 
able  to  repeat  the  idea  of  any  length  of  duration  we 
have  in  our  minds,  with  all  the  endless  addition  of 
number,  we  come  by  the  idea  of  eternity.     For  we  find 
in  ourselves,  we  can  no  more  come  to  an  end  of  such 
repeated  ideas  than  we  can  come  to  the  end  of  number ; 
which  every  one  perceives  he  cannot.     But  here  again 
it  is  another  question,  quite  different  from  our  having 
an  idea  of  eternity,  to  know  whether  there  were  any 
real  being  whose  duration  has  been  eternal.     And  as 
to  this,  I  say,  he  that  considers  something  now  exist- 
ing must  necessarily  come  to  something  eternal.     But 
having  spoke  of  this  in  another  place,  I  shall  say  here 
no  more  of  it,  but  proceed  on  to  some  other  considera- 
tions of  our  idea  of  infinity. 

6.  Why  other  ideas  are  not  capable  of  infinity. —  If 
it  be  so,  that  our  idea  of  infinity  be  got  from  the  power 
we  observe  in  ourselves  of  repeating  without  end  our 
own  ideas,  it  may  be  demanded,  why  we  do  not  at- 
tribute infinity  to  other  ideas,  as  well  as  those  of  space 
and  duration ;  since  they  may  be  as  easily  and  as  often 
repeated  in  our  minds  as  the  other;  and  yet  nobody 
ever  thinks  of  infinite  sweetness  or  infinite  whiteness, 
though  he  can  repeat  the  idea  of  sweet  or  white  as  fre- 
quently as  those  of  a  yard  or  a  day?     To  which  I 


ioo     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

answer,  All  the  ideas  that  are  considered  as  having 
parts,  and  are  capable  of  increase  by  the  addition  of 
any  equal  or  less  parts,  afford  us,  by  their  repetition, 
the  idea  of  infinity;  because  with  this  endless  repeti- 
tion there  is  continued  an  enlargement,  of  which  there 
can  be  no  end.  But  in  other  ideas  it  is  not  so ;  for  to 
the  largest  idea  of  extension  or  duration  that  I  at 
present  have,  the  addition  of  any  the  least  part  makes 
an  increase ;  but  to  the  perf ectest  idea  I  have  of  the 
whitest  whiteness,  if  I  add  another  of  a  less  or  equal 
whiteness  (and  of  a  whiter  than  I  have,  I  cannot  add 
the  idea),  it  makes  no  increase,  and  enlarges  not  my 
idea  at  all ;  and  therefore  the  different  ideas  of  white- 
ness, &c.,  are  called  "  degrees."  For  those  ideas  that 
consist  of  parts  are  capable  of  being  augmented  by 
every  addition  of  the  least  part;  but  if  you  take  the 
idea  of  white  which  one  parcel  of  snow  yielded  yester- 
day to  our  sight,  and  another  idea  of  white  from 
another  parcel  of  snow  you  see  to-day,  and  put  them 
together  in  your  mind,  they  embody,  as  it  were,  and 
run  into  one,  and  the  idea  of  whiteness  is  not  at  all 
increased ;  and  if  we  add  a  less  degree  of  whiteness  to 
a  greater,  we  are  so  far  from  increasing  that  we 
diminish  it.  Those  ideas  that  consist  not  of  parts  can- 
not be  augmented  to  what  proportion  men  please,  or 
be  stretched  beyond  what  they  have  received  by  their 
senses ;  but  space,  duration,  and  number,  being  capable 
of  increase  by  repetition,  leave  in  the  mind  an  idea  of 
an  endless  room  for  more;  nor  can  we  conceive  any 
where  a  stop  to  a  farther  addition  or  progression :  and 
so  those  ideas  alone  lead  our  minds  towards  the 
thought  of  infinity. 

7.     Difference  between  infinity  of  space  and  space 
infinite. —  Though  our  idea  of  infinity  arise  from  the 


OF  INFINITY.  101 

contemplation  of  quantity,  and  the  endless  increase  the 
mind  is  able  to  make  in  quantity,  by  the  repeated  addi- 
tions of  what  portions  thereof  it  pleases ;  yet,  I  guess, 
we  cause  great  confusion  in  our  thoughts  when  we 
join  infinity  to  any  supposed  idea  of  quantity  the  mind 
can  be  thought  to  have,  and  so  discourse  or  reason 
about  an  infinite  quantity,  as  an  infinite  space  or 
an  infinite  duration.  For  our  idea  of  infinity  being,  as 
I  think,  an  endless  growing  idea,  but  the  idea  of  any 
quantity  the  mind  has  being  at  that  time  terminated 
in  that  idea  (for  be  it  as  great  as  it  will,  it  can  be  no 
greater  than  it  is,  to  join  infinity  to  it,  is  to  adjust  a 
standing  measure  to  a  growing  bulk ;  and  therefore 
I  think  it  is  not  an  insignificant  subtilty  if  I  say  that 
we  are  carefully  to  distinguish  between  the  idea  of  the 
infinity  of  space  and  the  idea  of  a  space  infinite:  the 
first  is  nothing  but  a  supposed  endless  progression  of 
the  mind  over  what  repeated  ideas  of  space  it  pleases ; 
but  to  have  actually  in  the  mind  the  idea  of  a  space 
infinite,  is  to  suppose  the  mind  already  passed  over, 
and  actually  to  have  a  view  of  all  those  repeated  ideas 
of  space  which  an  endless  repetition  can  never  totally 
represent  to  it;  which  carries  in  it  a  plain  contradic- 
tion. 

8.  We  have  no  idea  of  infinite  space. —  This,  per- 
haps, will  be  a  little  plainer  if  we  consider  it  in  num- 
bers. The  infinity  of  numbers,  to  the  end  of  whose 
addition  every  one  perceives  there  is  no  approach, 
easily  appears  to  any  one  that  reflects  on  it:  but  how 
clear  soever  this  idea  of  the  infinity  of  number  be, 
there  is  nothing  yet  more  evident  than  the  absurdity 
of  the  actual  idea  of  an  infinite  number.  Whatsoever 
positive  ideas  we  have  in  our  minds  of  any  space, 
duration,  or  number,  let  them  be  ever  so  great,  they 


102     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

are  still  finite;  but  when  we  suppose  an  inexhaustible 
remainder,  from  which  we  remove  all  bounds,  and 
wherein  we  allow  the  mind  an  endless  progression  of 
thought,  without  ever  completing  the  idea,  there  we 
have  our  idea  of  infinity ;  which  though  it  seems  to  be 
pretty  clear  when  we  consider  nothing  else  in  it  but 
the  negation  of  an  end,  vet  when  we  would  frame  in 
our  minds  the  idea  of  an  infinite  space  or  duration, 
that  idea  is  very  obscure  and  confused,  because  it  is 
made  up  of  two  parts  very  different,  if  not  inconsist- 
ent. For  let  a  man  frame  in  his  mind  an  idea  of  any 
space  or  number,  as  great  as  he  will,  it  is  plain  the 
mind  rests  and  terminates  in  that  idea;  which  is  con- 
trary to  the  idea  of  infinity,  which  consists  in  a  sup- 
posed endless  progression.  And  therefore  I  think  it 
is  that  we  are  so  easily  confounded  when  we  come  to 
argue  and  reason  about  infinite  space  or  duration,  &c. 
Because  the  parts  of  such  an  idea  not  being  perceived 
to  be,  as  they  are,  inconsistent,  the  one  side  or  other 
always  perplexes  whatever  consequences  we  draw 
from  the  other;  as  an  idea  of  motion  not  passing  on 
would  perplex  any  one  who  should  argue  from  such  an 
idea,  which  is  not  better  than  an  idea  of  motion  at 
rest;  and  such  another  seems  to  me  to  be  the  idea  of 
a  space  or  (which  is  the  same  thing)  a  number  in- 
finite i.  e.,  of  a  space  or  number  which  the  mind  act- 
ually has,  and  so  views  and  terminates  in,  and  of  a 
space  or  number  which,  in  a  constant  and  endless  en- 
larging and  progression,  it  can  in  thought  never  attain 
to.  For  how  large  soever  an  idea  of  space  I  have  in 
my  mind,  it  is  no  larger  than  it  is  that  instant  that  I 
have  it,  though  I  be  capable  the  next  instant  to  double 
it,  and  so  on  in  infinitum:  for  that  alone  is  infinite 


OP  INFINITY.  103 

which  has  no  bounds,  and  that  the  idea  of  infinity  in 
which  our  thoughts  can  find  none. 

9.  Number  affords  us  the  clearest  idea  of  infinity. — 
But  of  all  other  ideas,  it  is  number,  as  I  have  said, 
which,  I  think,  furnishes  us  with  the  clearest  and  most 
distinct  idea  of  infinity  we  are  capable  of.    For  even  in 
space  and  duration,  when  the  mind  pursues  the  idea  of 
infinity,  it  there  makes  use  of  the  ideas  and  repetitions 
of  numbers,  as  of  millions  of  millions  of  miles  or  years, 
which  are  so  many  distinct  ideas  kept  best  by  number 
from  running  into  a  confused  heap,  wherein  the  mind 
loses  itself;  and  when  it  has  added  together  as  many 
millions  &c.,  as  it  pleases  of  known  lengths  of  space  or 
duration  the  clearest  idea  it  can  get  of  infinity  is,  the 
confused,  incomprehensible  remainder  of  endless  addi- 
ble  numbers,   which   affords  no  prospect  of  stop  or 
boundary. 

10.  Our   different   conception   of    the  infinity   of 
niflnber,  duration,  and  expansion. —  It  will,  perhaps, 
give  us  a  little  farther  light  into  the  idea  we  have  of 
infinity,  and  discover  to  us  that  it  is  nothing  but  the 
infinity   of   number   applied   to   determinate   parts,  of 
which  we  have  in  our  minds  the  distinct  ideas,  if  we 
consider  that  number  is  not  generally  thought  by  us 
infinite,  whereas  duration  and  extension  are  apt  to  be 
so;  which  arises  from  hence,  that  in  number  we  are  at 
one  end  as  it  were :  for  there  being  in  number  nothing 
less  than  an  unit,  we  there  stop,  and  are  at  an  end ; 
but  in  addition  or  increase  of  number,  we  can  set  no 
bounds :  and  so  it  is  like  a  line,  whereof  one  end  ter- 
minating with  us,  the  other  is  extended  still  forwards 
beyond  all  that  we  can  conceive ;  but  in  space  and  dur- 
ation it  is  otherwise..     For  in  duration  we  consider  it 
as  if  this  line  of  number  were  extended  both  ways  to 


104     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

an  unconceivable,  undeterminate,  and  infinite  length; 
which  is  evident  to  any  one  that  will  but  reflect  on 
what  consideration  he  hath  of  eternity;  which,  I  sup- 
pose, he  will  find  to  be  nothing  else  but  the  -turning' 
this  infinity  of  number  both  ways,  a  parte  ante  and 
a  parte  post,  as  they  speak.  For  when  we  would  con- 
sider eternity  a  parte  ante,  what  do  we  but,  beginning 
from  ourselves  and  the  present  time  we  are  in,  repeat 
in  our  minds  the  ideas  of  years,  or  ages,  or  any  other 
assignable  portion  of  duration  past,  with  a  prospect  of 
proceeding  in  such  addition  with  all  the  infinity  of 
number?  and  when  we  would  consider  eternity  a  parte 
post,  we  just  after  the  same  rate  begin  from  ourselves, 
and  reckon  by  multiplied  periods  yet  to  come,  still  ex- 
tending that  line  of  number  as  before:  and  these  two 
being  put  together  are  that  infinite  duration  we  call 
"  eternity ;"  which,  as  we  turn  our  view  either  way, 
forwards  or  backwards,  appears  infinite,  because  we 
still  turn  that  way  the  infinite  end  of  number,  i.  e.,  the 
power  still  of  adding  more. 

11.  The  same  happens  also  in  space,  wherein  con- 
ceiving ourselves  to  be  as  it  were  in  the  centre,  we  do 
on  all  sides  pursue  those  indeterminable  lines  of  num- 
ber; and  reckoning  any  way  from  ourselves  a  yard, 
mile,  diameter  of  the  earth,  or  orbis  magmis,  by  the 
infinity  of  number,  we  add  others  to  them  as  often  as 
we  will ;  and  having  no  more  reason  to  set  bounds  to 
those  repeated  ideas  than  we  have  to  set  bounds  to 
number,    we   have   that   indeterminable   idea   of   im- 
mensity. 

12.  Infinite  divisibility. —  And  since  in  any  bulk  of 
matter  our  thoughts  can  never  arrive  at  the  utmost 
divisibility,  therefore  there  is  an  apparent  infinity  to 
us  also  in  that  which  has  the  infinity  also  of  number. 


OF  INFINITY.  105 

but  with  this  difference, —  that  in  the  former  consider- 
ations of  the  infinity  of  space  and  duration,  we  only 
use  addition  of  numbers;  whereas  this  is  like  the 
division  of  a  unit  into  its  fractions,  wherein  the  mind 
also  can  proceed  in  infinitum,  as  well  as  in  the  former 
additions,  it  being  indeed  but  the  addition  still  of  new 
numbers ;  though  in  the  addition  of  the  one  we  can 
have  no  more  the  (positive)  idea  of  a  space  infinitely 
great,  than  in  the  division  of  the  other  we  can  have  the 
idea  of  a  body  infinitely  little;  our  idea  of  infinity  be- 
ing, as  I  may  so  say,  a  growing  and  fugitive  idea,  still 
in  a  boundless  progression,  that  can  stop  nowhere. 

13.  No  positive  idea  of  infinite. —  Though  it  be 
hard,  I  think,  to  find  any  one  so  absurd  as  to  say  he 
has  the  positive  idea  of  an  actual  infinite  number,  the 
infinity  whereof  lies  only  in  a  power  still  of  adding  any 
combination  of  units  to  any  former  number,  and  that 
as  long  and  as  much  as  one  will ;  the  like  also  being  in 
the  infinity  of  space  and  duration,  which  power  leaves 
always  to  the  mind  room  for  endless  additions;  yet 
there  be  those  who  imagine  they  have  positive  ideas  of 
infinite  duration  and  space.  It  would,  I  think,  be 
enough  to  destroy  any  such  positive  idea  of  infinite  to 
ask  him  that  has  it,  whether  he  could  add  to  it  or  no? 
which  would  easily  show  the  mistake  of  such  a  posi- 
tive idea.  We  can,  I  think,  have  no  positive  idea  of 
any  space  or  duration  which  is  not  made  up  of,  and 
commensurate  to,  repeated  numbers  of  feet  or  yards, 
or  days  and  years ;  which  are  the  common  measures 
whereof  we  have  the  ideas  of  our  minds,  and  whereby 
we  judge  of  the  greatness  of  this  sort  of  quantities. 
And  therefore,  since  an  infinite  idea  of  space  or  dura- 
tion must  needs  be  made  up  of  infinite  parts,  it  can 
have  no  other  infinity  than  that  of  number,  capable 


106     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

still  of  farther  addition ;  but  not  an  actual  positive  idea 
of  a  number  infinite.  For,  I  think,  it  is  evident  that 
the  addition  of  finite  things  together  (as  are  all 
lengths  whereof  we  have  the  positive  ideas)  can  never 
otherwise  produce  the  idea  of  infinite  than  as  number 
does ;  which,  consisting  of  additions  of  finite  units  one 
to  another,  suggests  the  idea  of  infinite  only  by  a 
power  we  find  we  have  of  still  increasing  the  sum, 
and  adding  more  of  the  same  kind,  without  coming 
one  jot  nearer  the  end  of  such  progression. 

14.  They  who  would  prove  their  idea  of    infinite 
to  be  positive,  seem  to  me  to  do  it  by  a  pleasant  argu- 
ment, taken  from  the  negation  of  an  end ;  which  being 
negative,  the  negation  of  it  is  positive.     He  that  con- 
siders that  the  end  is,  in  body,  but  the  extremity  or 
superficies  of  that  body,  will  not,  perhaps,  be  forward 
to  grant,  that  the  end  is  a  bare  negative :  and  he  that 
perceives  the  end  of  his  pen  is  black  or  white,  will 
be  apt  to  think  that  the  end  is  something  more  than 
a  pure  negation.     Nor  is  it,  when  applied  to  duration, 
the  bare  negation  of  existence,  but  more  properly  the 
last  moment  of  it.     But  if  they  will  have  the  end  to  be 
nothing  but  the  bare  negation  of  existence,  I  am  sure 
they  cannot  deny  but  that  the  beginning  is  the  first 
instant  of  being,  and  is  not  by  any  body  conceived 
to  be  a  bare  negation ;  and  therefore,  by  their  own 
argument,  the  idea  of  eternal  a  parte  ante,  or  of  a 
duration  without  a  beginning,  is  but  a  negative  idea. 

15.  What  is  positive,  uhat  negative,  in  our  idea  of 
infinite. —  The  idea  of  infinite  has,  I  confess,  something 
of  positive  in  all  those  things  we  apply  it  to.     When 
we  would  think  of  infinite  space  or  duration,  we  at 
first  step  usually  make  some  very  large  idea,  as  per- 
haps, of  millions  of  ages  or  miles,  which  possibly  we 


OF  INFINITY.  107 

double  and  multiply  several  times.  All  that  we  thus 
amass  together  in  our  thoughts  is  positive,  and  the 
assemblage  of  a  great  number  of  positive  ideas  of 
space  or  duration.  But  what  still  remains  beyond  this, 
we  have  no  more  a  positive,  distinct  notion  of,  than  a 
mariner  has  of  the  depth  of  the  sea,  where,  having  let 
down  a  large  portion  of  his  sounding-line,  he  reaches 
no  bottom:  whereby  he  knows  the  depth  to  be  so 
many  fathoms,  and  more;  but  how  much  that  more 
is,  he  hath  no  distinct  notion  at  all :  and  could  he 
always  supply  new  line,  and  find  the  plummet  always 
sink  without  ever  stopping,  he  would  be  something 
in  the  posture  of  the  mind  reaching  after  a  complete 
and  positive  idea  of  infinity.  In  which  case,  let  this 
line  be  ten  or  ten  thousand  fathoms  long,  it  equally 
discovers  what  is  beyond  it;  and  gives  only  this  con- 
fused and  comparative  idea,  that  this  is  not  all,  but 
one  may  yet  go  farther.  So  much  as  the  mind  com- 
prehends of  any  space,  it  has  a  positive  idea  of :  but  in 
endeavouring  to  make  it  infinite,  it  being  always  en- 
larging, always  advancing,  the  idea  is  still  imperfect 
and  incomplete.  So  much  space  as  the  mind  takes  a 
view  of,  in  its  contemplation  of  greatness,  is  a  clear 
picture,  and  positive  in  the  understanding:  but  infinite 
is  still  greater,  (i.)  Then  the  idea  of  so  much,  is 
positive  and  clear.  (2.)  The  idea  of  greater,  is  also 
clear,  but  it  is  but  a  comparative  idea,  the  idea  of  so 
much  greater  as  cannot  be  comprehended.  (3.) 
And  this  is  plain  negative,  not  positive.  For  he  has 
no  positive,  clear  idea,  of  the  largeness  of  any  ex- 
tension (which  is  that  sought  for  in  the  idea  of  infin- 
ite), that  has  not  a  comprehensive  idea  of  the  dimen- 
sions of  it:  and  such,  nobody,  I  think,  pretends  to  in 
what  is  infinite.  For,  to  say  a  man  has  a  positive, 


io8     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

clear  idea  of  any  quantity,  without  knowing  how  great 
it  is,  is  as  reasonable  as  to  say,  he  has  the  positive, 
clear  idea  of  the  number  of  the  sands  on  the  sea-shore, 
who  knows  not  how  many  there  be,  but  only  that  they 
are  more  than  twenty.  For  just  such  a  perfect  and 
positive  idea  has  he  of  an  infinite  space  or  duration 
who  says  it  is  larger  than  the  extent  or  duration  of 
ten,  one  hundred,  one  thousand,  or  any  other  number  of 
miles  or  years,  whereof  he  has  or  can  have  a  positive 
idea ;  which  is  all  the  idea,  I  think,  we  have  of  infinite. 
So  that  what  lies  beyond  our  positive  idea  towards 
infinity  lies  in  obscurity,  and  has  the  indeterminate 
confusion  of  a  negative  idea;  wherein  I  know  I  nei- 
ther do  nor  can  comprehend  all  I  would,  it  being  too 
large  for  a  finite  and  narrow  capacity :  and  that  cannot 
but  be  very  far  from  a  positive  complete  idea,  wherein 
the  greatest  part  of  what  I  would  comprehend  is  left 
out,  under  the  undeterminate  intimation  of  being  still 
greater.  For  to  say,  that  having  in  any  quantity 
measured  so  much,  or  gone  so  far,  you  are  not  yet  at 
the  end,  is  only  to  say  that  that  quantity  is  greater. 
So  that  the  negation  of  and  end  in  any  quantity,  is,  in 
other  words,  only  to  say,  that  it  is  bigger :  and  a  total 
negation  of  an  end,  is  but  the  carrying  this  bigger  still 
with  you  in  all  the  progressions  your  thoughts  shall 
make  in  quantity,  and  adding  this  idea  of  still  greater 
to  all  the  ideas  you  have  or  can  be  supposed  to  have 
of  quantity.  Now,  whether  such  an  idea  as  that  be 
positive,  I  leave  any  one  to  consider. 

16.  We  have  no  positive  idea  of  an  infinite  dura- 
tion.—  I  ask  those  who  say  they  have  a  positive  idea 
of  eternity,  whether  their  idea  of  duration  includes 
in  it  succession  or  not?  If  it  does  not,  they  ought  to 
show  the  difference  of  their  notion  of  duration,  when 


OF  INFINITY.  109 

applied  to  an  eternal  being,  and  to  a  finite ;  since,  per- 
haps, there  may  be  others,  as  well  as  I,  who  will  own 
to  them  their  weakness  of  understanding  in  this  point ; 
and  acknowledge  that  the  notion  they  have  of  duration 
forces  them  to  conceive,  that  whatever  has  duration 
is  of  a  longer  continuance  to-day  than  it  was  yesterday. 
If  to  avoid  succession  in  external  existence,  they  return 
to  the  punctum  stans  of  the  schools,  I  suppose  they 
will  thereby  very  little  mend  the  matter,  or  help  us 
to  a  more  clear  and  positive  idea  of  infinite  duration, 
there  being  nothing  more  inconceivable  to  me  than 
duration  without  succession.  Besides  that  punctum 
stans,  if  it  signify  any  thing,  being  not  quantum,  finite 
or  infinite  cannot  belong  to  it.  But  if  our  weak  appre- 
hensions cannot  separate  succession  from  any  duration 
whatsoever,  our  idea  of  eternity  can  be  nothing  but 
of  infinite  succession  of  moments  of  duration  wherein 
any  thing  does  exist;  and  whether  any  one  has  or 
can  have  a  positive  idea  of  an  actual  infinite  number, 
I  leave  him  to  consider,  till  his  infinite  number  be 
so  great  that  he  himself  can  add  no  more  to  it:  and 
as  long  as  he  can  increase  it,  I  doubt,  he  himself  will 
think  the  idea  he  hath  of  it  a  little  too  scanty  for 
positive  infinity. 

17.  I  think  it  unavoidable  for  every  considering 
rational  creature,  that  will  but  examine  his  own  or  any 
other  existence,  to  have  the  notion  of  an  eternal  wise 
Being,  who  had  no  beginning;  and  such  an  idea  of 
infinite  duration  I  am  sure  I  have.  But  this  negation 
of  a  beginning,  being  but  the  negation  of  a  positive 
thing,  scarce  gives  me  a  positive  idea  of  infinity; 
which  whenever  I  endeavour  to  extend  my  thoughts 
to,  I  confess  myself  at  a  loss,  and  I  find  I  cannot  attain 
any  clear  comprehension  of  it. 


I io     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

18.  No  positive  idea  of  infinite  space. —  He  that 
thinks  he  has  a  positive  idea  of  infinite  space  will,  when 
he  considers  it,  find  that  he  can  no  more  have  a  positive 
idea  of  the  greatest  than  he  has  of  the  least  space. 
For  in  this  latter,  which  seems  the  easier  of  the  two, 
and  more  within  our  comprehension,  we  are  capable 
only  of  a  comparative  idea  of  smallness,  which  will 
always  be  less  than  any  one  whereof  we  have  the 
positive  idea.  All  our  positive  ideas  of  any  quantity, 
whether  great  or  little  have  always  bounds ;  though  our 
comparative  idea,  whereby  we  can  always  add  to  the 
one,  and  take  from  the  other,  hath  no  bounds.  For 
that  which  remains,  either  great  or  little,  not  being 
comprehended  in  that  positive  idea  which  we  have, 
lies  in  obscurity:  and  we  have  no  other  idea  of  it, 
but  of  the  power  of  enlarging  the  one,  and  diminish- 
ing the  other,  without  ceasing.  A  pestle  and  mortar 
will  as  soon  bring  any  particle  of  matter  to  indivisi- 
bility, as  the  acutest  thought  of  a  mathematician :  and 
a  surveyor  may  as  soon  with  his  chain  measure  out 
infinite  space  as  a  philosopher  by  the  quickest  flight 
of  mind  reach  it,  or  by  thinking  comprehend  it;  which 
is  to  have  a  positive  idea  of  it.  He  that  thinks  on 
a  cube  of  an  inch  diameter,  has  a  clear  and  positive 
idea  of  it  in  his  mind,  and  so  can  frame  one  of  a  half, 
a  quarter,  and  an  eighth,  and  so  on,  till  he  has  the 
idea  in  his  thoughts  of  something  very  little;  but  yet 
reaches  not  the  idea  of  that  incomprehensible  littleness 
which  division  can  produce.  What  remains  of  small- 
ness  is  as  far  from  his  thoughts  as  when  he  first  be- 
gan ;  and  therefore  he  never  comes  at  all  to  have  a 
clear  and  positive  idea  of  that  smallness  which  is 
consequent  to  infinite  divisibility. 

19.     What  is  positive,  what  negative,  in  our  idea  of 


OF  INFINITY.  in 

infinite. —  Every  one  that  looks  towards  infinity  does  as 
I  have  said,  at  first  glance  make  some  very  large  idea  of 
that  which  he  applies  it  to,  let  it  be  space  or  duration ; 
and  possibly  he  wearies  his  thoughts  by  multiplying  in 
his  mind  that  first  large  idea :  but  yet  by  that  he  comes 
no  nearer  to  the  having  a  positive  clear  idea  of  what 
remains  to  make  up  a  positive  infinite,  than  the  coun- 
try-fellow had  of  the  water  which  was  yet  to  come,  and 
pass  the  channel  of  the  river  where  he  stood :  — 

Rusticus  expectat  dum  denuat  amnis;  at  ille 
Labitur,  et  labetur  in  omne  volubilis  avum. 

20.  Some,  think  they  have  a  positive  idea  of  eter- 
nity, and  not  of  infinite  space. —  There  are  some  I  have 
met  that  put  so  much  difference  between  infinite 
duration  and  infinite  space,  that  they  persuade  them- 
selves that  they  have  a  positive  idea  of  eternity,  but 
that  they  have  not  nor  can  have  any  idea  of  infinite 
space.  The  reason  of  which  mistake  I  suppose  to  be 
this,  that  finding  by  a  due  contemplation  of  causes 
and  effects  that  it  is  necessary  to  admit  some  eternal 
Being,  and  so  to  consider  the  real  existence  of  that 
Being  as  taken  up  and  commensurate  to  their  idea  of 
eternity:  but,  on  the  other  side,  not  finding  it  neces- 
sary, but,  on  the  contrary,  apparently  absurd,  that 
body  should  be  infinite,  they  forwardly  conclude  that 
they  can  have  no  idea  of  infinite  space,  because  they  can 
have  no  idea  of  infinite  matter.  Which  consequence, 
I  conceive,  is  very  ill  collected;  because  the  existence 
of  matter  is  no  ways  necessary  to  the  existence  of 
space,  no  more  than  the  existence  of  motion  or  the 
sun  is  necessary  to  duration,  though  duration  uses  to 
be  measured  by  it:  and  I  doubt  not  but  a  man  may 


112     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

have  the  idea  of  ten  thousand  miles  square 
without  any  body  so  big,  as  well  as  the  idea 
of  ten  thousand  years  without  any  body  so 
old.  It  seems  as  easy  to  me  to  have  the  idea  of 
space  empty  of  body,  as  to  think  of  the  capacity  of 
a  bushel  without  corn,  or  the  hollow  of  a  nut-shell 
without  a  kernel  in  it :  it  being  no  more  necessary  that 
there  should  be  existing  a  solid  body  infinitely  extend- 
ed because  we  have  an  idea  of  the  infinity  of  space, 
than  it  is  necessary  that  the  world  should  be  external 
because  we  have  an  idea  of  infinite  duration :  and  why 
should  we  think  our  idea  of  infinite  space  requires  the 
real  existence  of  matter  to  support  it,  when  we  find 
that  we  have  as  clear  an  idea  of  infinite  duration  to 
come,  as  we  have  of  infinite  duration  past?  though,  I 
suppose,  nobody  thinks  it  conceivable  that  any  thing 
does  or  has  existed  in  that  future  duration.  Nor  is  it 
possible  to  join  our  idea  of  future  duration  with  pres- 
ent or  past  existence,  any  more  than  it  is  possible  to 
make  the  ideas  of  yesterday,  to-day,  and  to-morrow 
to  be  the  same ;  or  bring  ages  past  and  future  together, 
and  make  them  contemporary.  But  if  these  men  are 
of  the  mind,  that  they  have  clearer  ideas  of  infinite 
duration  than  of  infinite  space,  because  it  is  past  doubt 
that  God  has  existed  from  all  eternity,  but  there  is  no 
real  matter  co-extended  with  infinite  space;  yet  those 
philosophers  who  are  of  opinion  that  infinite  space  is 
possessed  by  God's  infinite  omnipresence,  as  well  as 
infinite  duration  by  his  eternal  existence,  must  be  al- 
lowed to  have  as  clear  an  idea  of  infinite  space  as  of 
infinite  duration ;  though  neither  of  them,  I  think,  has 
any  positive  idea  of  infinity  in  either  case.  For,  what- 
soever positive  ideas  a  man  has  in  his  mind  of  any 
quantity,  he  can  repeat  it,  and  add  it  to  the  former,  as 


OF  INFINITY.  113 

easy  as  he  can  add  together  the  ideas  of  two  days, 
or  two  paces  (which  are  positive  ideas  of  lengths 
he  has  in  his  mind),  and  so  on,  as  long  as  he  pleases : 
whereby,  if  a  man  had  a  positive  idea  of  infinite,  either 
duration  or  space,  he  could  add  two  infinites  together ; 
nay,  make  one  infinite  infinitely  bigger  than  another: 
absurdities  too  gross  to  be  confuted ! 

21.    Supposed  positive  ideas  of  infinity  cause   of 
mistakes. —  But  yet,  if  after  all  this  there  be  men  who 
persuade  themselves   that  they   have   clear,   positive, 
comprehensive  ideas  of  infinity,  it  is  fit  they  enjoy 
their  privilege;  and  I  should  be  very  glad  (with  some 
others  that  I  know  who  acknowledge  that  they  have 
none  such)  to  be  better  informed  by  their  communi- 
cation.    For  I  have  been  hitherto  apt  to  think  that  the 
great   and   inextricable   difficulties   which   perpetually 
involve  all  discourses  concerning  infinity,  whether  of 
space,  duration,  or  divisibility,  have  been  the  certain 
marks  of  a  defect  in  our  ideas  of  infinity,  and  the  dis- 
proportion the  nature  thereof  has  to  the  comprehension 
of  our  narrow  capacities.     For  whilst  men  talk  and 
dispute  of  infinite  space  or  duration  as  if  they  had  as 
complete  and  positive  ideas  of  them  as  they  have  of 
the  names  they  use  for  them,  or  as  they  have  of  a  yard, 
or  an  hour,  or  any  other  determinate  quantity ;  it  is  no 
wonder  if  the  incomprehensible  nature  of  the  thing 
they  discourse  of  or  reason  about  leads  them  into  per- 
plexities and  contradictions,  and  their  minds  be  over- 
laid by  an  object  too  large  and  mighty  to  be  surveyed 
and  managed  by  them. 

22.  All  these  ideas  from  sensation  and  reflection. — 
If  I  have  dwelt  pretty  long  on  the  considerations  of 
duration,  space,  and  number,  and  what  arises  from 
the  contemplation  of  them,  infinity,  it  is  possibly  no 


114     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

more  than  the  matter  requires,  there  being  few  simple 
ideas  whose  modes  give  more  exercise  to  the  thoughts 
of  men  than  those  do.  I  pretend  not  to  treat  of  them 
in  their  full  latitude;  it  suffices  to  my  design  to  show 
how  the  mind  receives  them,  such  as  they  are,  from 
sensation  and  reflection;  and  how  even  the  idea  we 
have  of  infinity,  how  remote  soever  it  may  seem  to  be 
from  any  object  of  sense  or  operation  of  our  mind, 
has  nevertheless,  as  all  our  other  ideas,  its  original 
there.  Some  mathematicians,  perhaps,  of  advanced 
speculations,  may  have  other  ways  to  introduce  into 
their  minds  ideas  of  infinity;  but  this  hinders  not  but 
that  they  themselves,  as  well  as  all  other  men,  got  the 
first  ideas  which  they  had  of  infinity  from  sensation 
and  reflection,  in  the  method  we  have  here  set  down. 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

OF  OTHER  SIMPLE  MODES. 

I.  Modes  of  motion. —  Though  I  have  in  the  fore- 
going chapters  shown  how,  from  simple  ideas  taken 
in  by  sensation  the  mind  comes  to  extend  itself  even 
to  infinity;  which,  however,  it  may  of  all  others  seem 
most  remote  from  any  sensible  perception,  yet  at  last 
hath  nothing  in  it  but  what  is  made  out  of  simple  ideas 
received  into  the  mind  by  the  senses,  and  afterwards 
there  put  together  by  the  faculty  the  mind  has  to  re- 
peat its  own  ideas:  though,  I  say,  these  might  be 
instances  enough  of  simple  modes  of  the  simple  ideas 
'of  sensation,  and  suffice  to  show  how  the  mind  comes 
by  them ;  yet  I  shall,  for  method's  sake,  though  briefly, 
give  an  account  of  some  few  more,  and  then  proceed 
to  more  complex  ideas. 


OF  OTHER  SIMPLE  MODES.  115 

2.  To  slide,  roll,  tumble,  walk,  creep,  run,  dance, 
leap,  skip,  and  abundance  of  others  that  might  be 
named,  are  words  which  are  no  sooner  heard  but  every 
one  who  understands  English  has  presently  in  his  mind 
distinct  ideas  which  are  all  but  the  different  modifica- 
tions of  motion.     Modes  of  motion  answer  those  of 
extension:  swift  and  slow  are  two  different  ideas  of 
motion,  the  measures  whereof  are  made  of  the  dis- 
tances of  time  and  space  put  together;  so  they  are 
complex   ideas   comprehending  time  and   space   with 
motion. 

3.  Modes  of  sounds. —  The  like  variety  have  we  in 
sounds.     Every  articulate  word  is  a  different  modifi- 
cation of  sound ;  by  which  we  see  that,  from  the  sense 
of  hearing,  by  such  modifications,  the  mind  may  be 
furnished  with  distinct  ideas  to  almost  an  infinite  num- 
ber.    Sounds,  also,  besides  the  distinct  cries  of  birds 
and  beasts,  are  modified  by  diversity  of  notes  of  differ- 
ent length  put  together,  which  make  that  complex  idea 
called  a  "  tune,"  which  a  musician  may  have  in  his  mind 
when  he  hears  or  makes  no  sound  at  all,  by  reflecting 
on  the  ideas  of  those  sounds  so  put  together  silently  in 
his  own  fancy. 

4.  Modes  of  colours. —  Those  of  colours  are  also 
very  various ;  some  we  take  notice  of,  as  the  different 
degrees,  or,  as  they  are  termed  "  shades,"  of  the  same 
colour.     But  since  we  very  seldom  make  assemblages 
of  colours  either  for  use  or  delight  but  figure  is  taken 
in  also,  and  has  its  parts  in  it,  as  in  painting,  weaving, 
needle-works,  &c.,  those  which  are  taken  notice  of  do 
most  commonly  belong  to  mixed  modes,  as  being  made 
up  of  ideas  of  divers  kinds,  viz.,  figure  and  colour,  such 
as  beauty,  rainbow,  &c. 

5.  Modes  of  tastes. —  All  compounded  tastes  and 


Ii6     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

smells  are  also  modes  made  up  of  these  simple  ideas 
of  those  senses.  But  they,  being  such  as  generally  we 
have  no  names  for,  are  less  taken  notice  of,  and  can- 
not be  set  down  in  writing;  and  therefore  must  be 
left  without  enumeration  to  the  thoughts  and  experi- 
ence of  my  reader. 

6.  Some  simple  modes  have  no  names. —  In  general 
it  may  be  observed  that  those  simple  modes  which 
are  considered  but  as  different  degrees  of  the  same 
simple   idea,   though   they   are   in   themselves,   many 
of  them,  very  distinct  ideas,  yet  have  ordinarily  no 
distinct  names,  nor  are  much  taken  notice  of  as  dis- 
tinct ideas  where  the  difference  is  but  very  small  be- 
tween   them.     Whether    men    have    neglected    these 
modes,  and  given  no  names  to  them,  as  wanting  meas- 
ures nicely  to  distinguish  them ;  or  because,  when  they 
were  so  distinguished,  that  knowledge  would  not  be 
of  general  or  necessary  use ;  I  leave  it  to  the  thoughts 
of  others:  it  is  sufficient  to  my  purpose  to  show,  that 
all  our  simple  ideas  come  to  our  minds  only  by  sensa- 
tion and  reflection ;  and  that  when  the  mind  has  them, 
it  can  variously  repeat  and  compound  them,  and  so 
make  new  complex  ideas.     But  though  white,  red,  or 
sweet,  &c.,  have  not  been  modified  or  made  into  com- 
plex ideas  by  several  combinations,  so  as  to  be  named, 
and  thereby  ranked  into  species ;  yet  some  others  of  the 
simple  ideas   (viz.,  those  of  unity,  duration,  motion, 
&c.,  above  instanced  in,  as  also  power  and  thinking) 
have  been  thus  modified  to  a  great  variety  of  complex 
ideas  with  names  belonging  to  them. 

7.  Why  some  modes  have  and  others  have  not 
names. —  The  reason  whereof,  I  suppose,  has  been  this, 
that  the  great  concernment  of  men  being  with  men  one 
amongst   another,   the   knowledge  of  men   and   their 


OF  OTHER  SIMPLE  MODES.  117 

actions  and  the  signifying  of  them  to  one  another 
was  most  necessary;  and  therefore  they  made  ideas 
of  action  very  nicely  modified,  and  gave  those  com- 
plex ideas  names '  that  they  might  the  more  easily 
record  and  discourse  of  those  things  they  were  daily 
conversant  in  without  long  ambages  and  circumlocu- 
tions; and  that  the  things  they  were  continually  to 
give  and  receive  information  about  might  be  the  easier 
and  quicker  understood.  That  this  is  so,  and  that  men 
in  framing  different  complex  ideas,  and  giving  them 
names,  have  been  much  governed  by  the  end  of  speech 
in  general  (which  is  a  very  short  and  expedite  way  of 
conveying  their  thoughts  one  to  another),  is  evident 
in  the  names  which  in  several  arts  have  been  found  out 
and  applied  to  several  complex  ideas  of  modified  ac- 
tions belonging  to  their  several  trades,  for  despatch 
sake,  in  their  direction  or  discourses  about  them. 
Which  ideas  are  not  generally  framed  in  the  minds 
of  men  not  conversant  about  these  operations.  And 
hence  the  words  that  stand  for  them  by  the  greatest 
part  of  men  of  the  same  language  are  not  understood. 
V.  g.,  coltshire,  drilling,  nitration,  coohobation,  are 
words  standing  for  certain  complex  ideas,  which  being 
seldom  in  the  minds  of  any  but  those  few  whose  par- 
ticular employments  do  at  every  turn  suggest  them  to 
their  thoughts,  those  names  of  them  are  not  generally 
understood  but  by  smiths  and  chymists;  who,  having 
framed  the  complex  ideas  which  these  words  stand 
for,  and  having  given  names  to  them  or  recieved  them 
from  others,  upon  hearing  of  these  names  in  communi- 
cation readily  conceive  those  ideas  in  their  minds;  as 
by  cohobation,  all  the  simple  ideas  of  distilling,  and 
the  pouring  the  liquor  distilled  from  any  thing  back 
upon  the  remaining  matter,  and  distilling  it  again. 


Ii8     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

Thus  we  see  that  there  are  great  varieties  of  simple 
ideas,  as  of  tastes  and  smells,  '-which  have  no  names ; 
and  of  modes  many  more.  Which  either  not  having 
been  generally  enough  observed,  or  else  not  being 
of  any  great  use  to  be  taken  notice  of  in  the  affairs 
and  converse  of  men,  they  have  not  had  names  given 
to  them,  and  so  pass  not  for  species.  This  we  shall 
have  occasion  hereafter  to  consider  more  at  large 
when  we  come  to  speak  of  words. 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

OF  THE  MODES  OF  THINKING. 

I.  Sensation,  remembrance,  contemplation,  &c. — 
When  the  mind  turns  its  view  inwards  upon  itself,  and 
contemplates  its  own  actions,  thinking  is  the  first  that 
occurs.  In  it  the  mind  observes  a  great  variety  of 
modifications,  and  from  thence  receives  distinct  ideas. 
Thus  the  perception  or  thought  which  actually  accom- 
panies and  is  annexed  to  any  impression  on  the  body 
made  by  an  external  object^  being  distinct  from  all 
other  modifications  of  thinking,  furnishes  the  mind 
with  a  distinct  idea  which  we  call  "  sensation ;  "  which 
is,  as  it  were,  the  actual  entrance  of  any  idea  into  the 
understanding  by  the  senses.  The  same  idea,  when  it 
again  recurs  without  the  operation  of  the  like  object  on 
the  external  sensory,  is  "  remembrance :  "  if  it  be  sought 
after  by  the  mind,  and  with  pain  and  endeavour  found, 
and  brought  again  in  view,  it  is  "  recollection  :  "  if  it  be 
held  there  long  under  attentive  consideration,  it  is 
"  contemplation : "  when  ideas  float  in  our  mind  with- 
out any  reflection  or  regard  of  the  understanding,  it  is 
that  which  the  French  call  reverie;  our  language  has 


OF  THE  MODES  OF  THINKING.  119 

scarce  a  name  for  it:  when  the  ideas  that  offer  them- 
selves (for,  as  I  have  observed  in  another  place,  whilst 
we  are  awake  there  will  always  be  a  train  of  ideas 
succeeding  one  another  in  our  minds)  are  taken  notice 
of,  and,  as  it  were,  registered  in  the  memory,  it  is 
"  attention : "  when  the  mind  with  great  earnestness, 
and  of  choice,  fixes  its  view  on  any  idea,  considers  it 
on  all  sides,  and  will  not  be  called  off  by  the  ordinary 
solicitation  of  other  ideas,  it  is  that  we  call  "  inten- 
sion," or  "  study ;  "  "  sleep,"  without  dreaming  is  rest 
from  all  these :  and  "  dreaming  "  itself  is  the  having  of 
ideas  (whilst  the  outward  senses  are  stopped,  so  that 
they  receive  not  outward  objects  with  their  usual 
quickness)  in  the  mind,  not  suggested  by  any  external 
objects  or  known  occasion,  nor  under  any  choice  or 
conduct  of  the  understanding  at  all ;  and  whether  that 
which  we  call  "  ecstasy  "  be  not  dreaming  with  the 
eyes  open,  I  leave  to  be  examined. 

2.  These  are  some  few  instances  of  those  various 
modes  of  thinking  which  the  mind  may  observe  in 
itself,  and  so  have  as  distinct  ideas  of  as  it  hath  of 
white  and  red,  a  square  or  a  circle.     I  do  not  pretend  to 
enumerate  them  all,  nor  to  treat  at  large  of  this  set 
of  ideas  which  are  got  from  reflection ;  that  would  be 
to  make  a  volume.     It  suffices  to  my  present  purpose 
to  have  shown  here,  by  some  few  examples,  of  what 
sort   these  ideas  are,   and  how  the  mind   comes   by 
them ;  especially  since  I  shall  have  occasion  hereafter 
to  treat  more  at  large  of  reasoning,  judging,  volition, 
and  knowledge,  which  are  some  of  the  most  consid- 
erable operations  of  the  mind,  and  modes  of  thinking. 

3.  The  various  attention  of  the  mind  in  thinking. — 
But  perhaps  it  may  not  be  an  unpardonable  digres- 
sion, nor  wholly  impertinent  to  our  present  design,  rf 


120     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

we  reflect  here  upon  the  different  state  of  the  mind 
in  thinking  which  those  instances  of  attention,  reverie, 
and  dreaming,  &c.,  before  mentioned,  naturally  enough 
suggest.  That  there  are  ideas,  some  or  other,  always 
present  in  the  mind  of  a  waking  man,  every  one's  ex- 
perience convinces  him;  though  the  mind  employs  it- 
self about  them  with  several  degrees  of  attention. 
Sometimes  the  mind  fixes  itself  with  so  much  earnest- 
ness on  the  contemplation  of  some  objects,  that  it 
turns  their  ideas  on  all  sides,  marks  their  relations 
and  circumstances,  and  views  every  part  so  nicely,  and 
with  such  intension,  that  it  shuts  out  all  other  thoughts, 
and  takes  no  notice  of  the  ordinary  impressions  made 
then  on  the  senses,  which  at  another  season  would  pro- 
duce very  sensible  perceptions ;  at  other  times,  it  barely 
observes  the  train  of  ideas  that  succeed  in  the  under- 
standing without  directing  and  pursuing  any  of  them  ; 
and  at  other  times  it  lets  them  pass  almost  quite  un- 
regarded, as  faint  shadows  that  make  no  impression. 
4.  Hence  it  is  probable  that  thinking  is  the  action, 
not  essence,  of  the  soul —  This  difference  of  intension 
and  remission  of  the  mind  in  thinking,  with  a  great 
variety  of  degrees  between  earnest  study  and  very 
near  minding  nothing  at  all,  every  one,  I  think,  has 
experimented  in  himself.  Trace  it  a  little  farther,  and 
you  find  the  mind  in  sleep  retired,  as  it  were,  from  the 
senses,  and  out  of  the  reach  of  those  motions  made  on 
the  organs  of  sense,  which  at  other  times  produce  very 
vivid  and  sensible  ideas.  I  need  not,  for  this,  instance 
in  those  who  sleep  out  whole  stormy  nights  without 
hearing  the  thunder,  or  seeing  the  lightning,  or  feeling 
the  shaking  of  the  house,  which  are  sensible  enough 
to  those  who  are  waking.  But  in  this  retirement  of 
the  mind  from  the  senses,  it  often  retains  a  yet  more 


OF  THE  MODES  OF  THINKING.  121 

loose  and  incoherent  manner  of  thinking,  which  we 
call  "dreaming;"  and,  last  of  all,  sound  sleep  closes 
the  scene  quite,  and  puts  an  end  to  all  appearances. 
This,  I  think,  almost  every  one  has  experience  of  in 
himself,  and  his  own  observation  without-  difficulty 
leads  him  thus  far.  That  which  I  would  farther  con- 
clude from  hence  is,  that  since  the  mind  can  sensibly 
put  on,  at  several  times,  several  degrees  of  thinking; 
and  be  sometimes  even  in  a  waking  man  so  remiss  as 
to  have  thoughts  dim  and  obscure,  to  that  degree  that 
they  are  very  little  removed  from  none  at  all;  and  at 
last,  in  the  dark  retirements  of  sound  sleep,  loses  the 
sight  perfectly  of  all  ideas  whatsoever;  since,  I  say, 
this  is  evidently  so  in  matter  of  fact  and  constant  ex- 
perience, I  ask,  whether  it  be  not  probable,  that  think- 
ing is  the  action  and  not  the  essence  of  the  soul  ?  since 
the  operations  of  agents  will  easily  admit  of  intension 
and  remission ;  but  the  essences  of  things  ate  not  con- 
ceived capable  of  any  such  variation.  But  this  by 
the  by. 

CHAPTER  XX. 

OF    MODES   OF   PLEASURE   AND   PAIN. 

I.  Pleasure  and  pain  simple  ideas. —  Amongst  the 
simple  ideas  which  we  receive  both  from  sensation 
and  reflection,  pain  and  pleasure  are  two  very  consid- 
erable ones.  For  as  in  the  body  there  is  sensation 
barely  in  itself,  or  accompanied  with  pain  or  pleasure ; 
so  the  thought  or  perception  of  the  mind  is  simply  so, 
or  else  accompanied  also  with  pleasure  or  pain,  de- 
light or  trouble,  call  it  how  you  please.  These,  like 
other  simple  ideas,  cannot  be  described,  nor  their 


122     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

names  defined :  the  way  of  knowing  them  is,  as  of  the 
simple  ideas  of  the  senses,  only  by  experience.  For 
to  define  them  by  the  presence  of  good  or  evil,  is 
no  otherwise  to  make  them  known  to  us  than  by 
making  us  reflect  on  what  we  feel  in  ourselves,  upon 
the  several  and  various  operations  of  good  and  evil 
upon  our  minds,  as  they  are  differently  applied  to  or 
considered  by  us. 

2.  Good  and  evil,  what. —  Things  then  are  good  or 
evil  only  in  reference  to  pleasure  or  pain.     That  we 
call  "  good,"  which  is  apt  to  cause  or  increase  pleasure, 
or  diminish  pain,  in  us ;  or  else  to  procure  or  preserve 
us  the  possession  of  any  other  good,  or  absence  of  any 
evil.     And,   on   the  contrary,   we   name  that  "  evil," 
which  is  apt  to  produce  or  increase  any  pain,  or  dimin- 
ish any  pleasure,  in  us ;  or  else  to  procure  us  any  evil, 
or  deprive  us  of  any  good.    By  "  pleasure  "  and  "  pain," 
I  must  be  understood  to  mean  of  body  or  mind,  as 
they  are  commonly  distinguished;  though,   in  truth, 
they  be  only  different  constitutions  of  the  mind,  some- 
times occasioned  by  disorder  in  the  body,  sometimes 
by  thoughts  in  the  mind. 

3.  Our  passions  moved  by  good  and  evil. —  Pleas- 
ure and  pain,  and  that  which  causes  them,  good  and 
evil,  are  the  hinges  on  which  our  passions  turn:  and 
if  we  reflect  on  ourselves,  and  observe  how  these, 
under   various   considerations,   operate   in   us, —  what 
modifications  or  tempers  of  mind,  what  internal  sensa- 
tions (if  I  may  so  call  them)  they  produce  in  us, —  we 
may  thence  form  to  ourselves  the  ideas  of  our  pas- 
sions. 

4.  Love. —  Thus    any    one     reflecting    upon    the 
thought  he  has  of  the  delight  which  any  present  or 
absent  thing  is  apt  to  produce  in  him,  has  the  idea  we 


OF  MODES  OF  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN.         123 

call  "  love."  For  when  a  man  declares  in  autumn, 
when  he  is  eating  them,  or  in  spring,  when  there  are 
none,  that  he  loves  grapes,  it  is  no  more  but  that  the 
taste  of  grapes  delights  him :  let  an  alteration  of  health 
or  constitution  destroy  the  delight  of  their  taste,  and 
he  then  can  be  said  to  love  grapes  no  longer. 

5.  Hatred. —  On  the  contrary,  the  thought  of  the 
pain  which  any  thing  present  or  absent  is  apt  to  pro- 
duce in  us,  is  what  we  call  "  hatred."     Were  it  my 
business  here  to  inquire  any  further  than  into  the  bare 
ideas  of  our  passions,  as  they   depend  on   different 
modifications  of  pleasure  and  pain,  I  should  remark, 
that  our  love  and  hatred  of  inanimate,  insensible  be- 
ings is  commonly  founded  on  that  pleasure  and  pain 
which  we  receive  from  their  use  and  application  any 
way  to  our  senses,  though  with  their  destruction;  but 
hatred  or  love  to  beings  capable  of  happiness  or  mis- 
ery, is  often  the  uneasiness  or  delight  which  we  find 
in  ourselves,  arising  from   [a  consideration  of]   their 
very  being  or  happiness.     Thus  the  being  and  welfare 
of  a  man's  children  or  friends  producing  constant  de- 
light in  him,  he  is  said  constantly  to  love  them.     But  it 
suffices  to  note,  that  our  ideas  of  love  and  hatred  are  but 
the  dispositions  of  the  mind  in  respect  of  pleasure  and 
pain  in  general,  however  caused  in  us. 

6.  Desire. —  The  uneasiness  a  man  finds  in  himself 
upon  the  absence  of  any  thing  whose  present  enjoy- 
ment carries  the  idea  of  delight  with  it,  is  that  we 
call  "  desire,"  which  is  greater  or  less  as  that  uneasi- 
ness is  more  or  less  vehement.     [Where,  by  the  by,  it 
may  perhaps  be  of  some  use  to  remark,  that  the  chief, 
if  not  only,  spur  to  human  industry  and  action  is  un- 
easiness: for,  whatsoever  good  is  proposed,  if  its  ab- 
sence carries  no  displeasure  nor  pain  with  it,  if  a  man 


124     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

be  easy  and  content  without  it,  there  is  no  desire  of  it, 
nor  endeavour  after  it;  there  is  no  more  but  a  bare 
velleity, —  the  term  used  to  signify  the  lowest  degree 
of  desire,  and  that  which  is  next  to  none  at  all,  when 
there  is  so  little  uneasiness  in  the  absence  of  any 
thing,  that  it  carries  a  man  no  farther  than  some  faint 
wishes  for  it,  without  any  more  effectual  or  vigorous 
use  of  the  means  to  attain  it.  Desire  also  is  stopped 
or  abated  by  the  opinion  of  the  impossibility  or  un- 
attainableness  of  the  good  proposed,  as  far  as  the 
uneasiness  is  cured  or  allayed  by  that  consideration. 
This  might  carry  our  thoughts  farther,  were  it  season- 
able in  this  place.] 

Joy. —  Joy  is  a  delight  of  the  mind  from  the  con- 
sideration of  the  present  or  assured  approaching  pos- 
session of  a  good;  and  we  are  then  possessed  of  any 
good,  when  we  have  it  so  in  our  power  that  we  can 
use  it  when  we  please.  Thus  a  man  almost  starved 
has  a  joy  at  the  arrival  of  relief,  even  before  he  has 
the  pleasure  of  using  it;  and  a  father  in  whom  the 
very  well-being  of  his  children  causes  delight  is 
always,  as  long  as  his  children  are  in  such  a  state,  in 
the  possession  of  that  good;  for  he  needs  but  to  re- 
flect on  it  to  have  that  pleasure. 

8.  Sorrow. —  Sorrow  is  uneasiness  in  the  mind  up- 
on the  thought  of  a  good  lost,  which  might  have  been 
enjoyed  longer;  or  the  sense  of  a  present  evil. 

9.  Hope. —  Hope  is  that  pleasure  in  the  mind  which 
every  one  finds  in  himself,  upon  the  thought  of  a 
profitable  future  enjoyment  of  a  thing  which  is  apt  to 
delight  him. 

10.  Fear. —  Fear  is  an  uneasiness  of  the  mind,  up- 
on the  thought  of  future  evil  likely  to  befal  us. 

11.  Despair. —  Despair  is  the  thought  of  trie  unat- 


OF  MODES  OF  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN.         125 

tainableness  of  any  good,  which  works  differently  in 
men's  minds ;  sometimes  producing  uneasiness  or  pain, 
sometimes  rest  and  indolency. 

12.  Anger. —  Anger  is  uneasiness  or  discomposure 
of  the  mind  upon  the  receipt  of  any  injury,  with  a 
present  purpose  of  revenge. 

13.  Envy. —  Envy   is   an  uneasiness  of  the   mind 
caused  by  the  consideration  of  a  good  we  desire,  ob- 
tained by  one  we  think  should  not  have  had  it  before  us. 

14.  What  passions  all  men  have. —  These  two  last, 
"  envy  "  and  "  anger,"  not  being  caused  by  pain  and 
pleasure  simply  in  themselves,  but  having  in  them 
some  mixed  considerations  of  ourselves  and  others, 
are  not  therefore  to  be  found  in  all  men,  because  those 
other  parts  of  valuing  their  merits,  or  intending  re- 
venge, is  wanting  in  them;  but  all  the  rest,  terminat- 
ed purely  in  pain  and  pleasure,  are,  I  think,  to  be  found 
in  all  men.     For  we  love,  desire,  rejoice  and  hope,  only 
in  respect  of  pleasure;  we  hate  fear,  and  grieve,  only 
in  respect  of  pain  ultimately :  in  fine,  all  these  passions 
are  moved  by  things  only  as  they  appear  to  be  the 
causes  of  pleasure  and  pain,  or  to  have  pleasure  or 
pain  some  way  or  other  annexed  to  them.     Thus  we 
extend  our  hatred  usually  to  the  subject  (at  least,  if  a 
sensible  or  voluntary  agent)  which  has  produced  pain 
in  us,  because  the  fear  it  leaves  is  a  constant  pain; 
but  we  do  not  so  constantly  love  what  has  done  us 
good,  because  pleasure  operates  not  so  strongly  on  us 
as  pain,  and  because  we  are  not  so  ready  to  have  hope 
it  will  do  so  again.    But  this  by  the  by. 

15.  Pleasure  and  pain,  what. —  By  "  pleasure  "  and 
"  pain,"  "  delight  "  and  "  uneasiness,"  I  must  all  along 
be  understood  (as  I  have  above  intimated)  to  mean, 
not  only  bodily  pain  and  pleasure,  but  whatsoever  de- 


126     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

light  or  uneasiness  is  felt  by  us,  whether  arising  from 
any  grateful  or  unacceptable  sensation  or  reflection. 

16.  It  is  farther  to  be  considered,  that,  in  refer- 
ence to  the  passions,  the  removal  or  lessening  of  a  pain 
is  considered  and  operates  as  a  pleasure ;  and  the  loss 
or  diminishing  of  a  pleasure,  as  a  pain. 

17.  Shame. —  The  passions,  too,  have  most  of  them, 
in  most  persons,  operations  on  the  body,  and  cause 
various  changes  in  it;  which,  not  being  always  sen- 
sible do  not  make  a  necessary  part  of  the  idea  of 
each  passion.     For  shame,  which  is  an  uneasiness  of 
the  mind  upon  the  thought  of  having  done  something 
which  is  indecent,  or  will  lessen  the  valued  esteem 
which  others  have  for  us,  has  not  always  blushing 
accompanying  it. 

18.  These  instances  do  shon'  hoiv  our  ideas  of  the 
passions  are  got  from  sensation   and   reflection. —  I 
would  not  be  mistaken  here,  as  if  I  meant  this  as  a 
discourse  of  the  passions;  they  are  many  more  than 
those  I  have  here  named :  and  those  I  have  taken  no- 
tice of  would  each  of  them  require  a  much  larger  and 
more  accurate  discourse.     I  have  only  mentioned  these 
here,  as  so  many  instances  of  modes  of  pleasure  and 
pain  resulting  in  our  minds  from  various  considera- 
tions of  good  and  evil.     I  might,  perhaps,  have  in- 
stanced in  other  modes  of  pleasure  and  pain  more  sim- 
ple than  these;  as  the  pain  of  hunger  and  thirst,  and 
the  pleasure  of  eating  and  drinking  to  remove  them; 
the  pain  of.  teeth  set  on  edge,  and  the  pleasure  of  music  ; 
pain  from  captious,  uninstructive  wrangling,  and  the 
pleasure  of  rational  conversation  with  a  friend,  or  of 
well-directed   study   in  the  search   and   discover}-   of 
truth.     But  the  passions  being  of  much  more  con- 
cernment to  us,  I  rather  made  choice  to  instance  in 


OF  MODES  OF  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN.         127 

them,  and  show  how  the  ideas  we  have  of  them  are 
derived  from  sensation  and  reflection. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

OF    POWER. 

I.  This  idea  how  got. —  The  mind  being  every  day 
informed,  by  the  senses,  of  the  alteration  of  those  sim- 
ple ideas  it  observes  in  things  without,  and  taking 
notice  how  one  comes  to  an  end  and  ceases  to  be,  and 
another  begins  to  exist  which  was  not  before ;  reflect- 
ing also,  on  what  passes  within  itself,  and  observing 
a  constant  change  of  its  ideas,  sometimes  by  the  im- 
pression of  outward  objects  on  the  senses,  and  some- 
times by  the  determination  of  its  own  choice;  and 
concluding,  from  what  it  has  so  constantly  observed 
to  have  been,  that  the  like  changes  will  for  the  future 
be  made  in  the  same  things  by  like  agents,  and  by  the 
like  ways ;  considers  in  one  thing  the  possibility  of 
having  any  of  its  simple  ideas  changed,  and  in  another 
the  possibility  of  making  that  change;  and  so  comes 
by  that  idea  which  we  call  "  power."  Thus  we  say, 
fire  has  a  power  to  melt  gold ;  i.  e.,  to  destroy  the  con- 
sistency of  its  insensible  parts,  and  consequently  its 
hardness,  and  make  it  fluid ;  and  gold  has  a  power  to 
be  melted:  that  the  sun  has  a  power  to  blanch  wax; 
and  wax  a  power  to  be  blanched  by  the  sun,  whereby 
the  yellowness  is  destroyed,  and  whiteness  made  to  ex- 
ist in  its  room.  In  which  and  the  like  cases,  the  power 
we  consider  is  in  reference  to  the  change  of  perceivable 
ideas :  for  we  cannot  observe  any  alteration  to  be  made 
in,  or  operation  upon,  any  thing,  but  by  the  observable 
change  of  its  sensible  ideas:  nor  conceive  any  altera- 


128     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

tion  to  be  made,  but  by  conceiving  a  change  of  some 
of  its  ideas. 

2.  Power  active  and  passive. —  Power  thus  consid- 
ered is  twofold;  viz.,  as  able  to  make,  or  able  to  re- 
ceive, any  change ;  the  one  may  be  called  "  active,"  and 
the  other  "  passive,"  power.     Whether  matter  be  not 
wholly  destitute  of  active  power,  as  its  author,  God, 
is  truly  above  all  passive  power;   and  whether  the 
intermediate  state  of  created  spirits  be  not  that  alone 
which  is  capable  of  both  active  and  passive  power, 
may  be  worth  consideration.     I  shall  not  now  enter 
into  that  inquiry:  my  present  business  being  not  to 
search  into  the  original  of  power,  but  how  we  come  by 
the   idea  of  it.     But   since   active   powers   make   so 
great  a  part  of  our  complex  ideas  of  natural  sub- 
stances   (as   we  shall  see  hereafter),  and   I  mention 
them  as  such,  according  to  common  apprehension ;  yet 
they  being  not,  perhaps,  so  truly  active  powers  as  our 
hasty  thoughts  are  apt  to  represent  them,  I  judge  it 
not  amiss,  by  this  intimation,  to  direct  our  minds  to  the 
consideration  of  God  and  spirits,  for  the  clearest  idea 
of  active  power. 

3.  Power  includes  relation. —  I  confess  power  in- 
cludes in  it  some  kind  of  relation, —  a  relation  to  ac- 
tion or  change;  as,  indeed,  which  of  our  ideas,  of 
what  kind  soever,  when  attentively  considered,  does 
not  ?    For  our  ideas  of  extension,  duration,  and  num- 
ber, do  they  not  all  contain  in  them  a  secret  relation 
of  the  parts  ?     Figure  and  motion  have  something  rel- 
ative in  them  much  more  visibly.     And  sensible  quali- 
ties, as  colours  and  smells,  &c.,  what  are  they  but 
the  powers  of  different  bodies  in  relation  to  our  percep- 
tion, &c.  ?     And  if  considered  in  the  things  themselves, 
do  they  not  depend  on  the  bulk,  figure,  texture,  and 


OF  POWER.  129 

motion  of  the  parts  ?  All  which  include  some  kind 
of  relation  in  them.  Our  idea  therefore  of  power,  1 
think,  may  well  have  a  place  amonst  other  simple  ideas, 
and  be  considered  as  one  of  them,  being  one  of  those 
that  make  a  principal  ingredient  in  our  complex  ideas 
of  substances,  as  we  shall  hereafter  have  occasion  to 
observe. 

4.  The  clearest  idea  of  active  power  had  from 
spirit. —  [We  are  abundantly  furnished  with  the  idea 
of  passive  power,  by  almost  all  sorts  of  sensible  things. 
In  most  of  them  we  cannot  avoid  observing  their  sen- 
sible qualities,  nay,  their  very  substances  to  be  in  a 
continual  flux :]  and  therefore  with  reason  we  look  on 
them  as  liable  still  to  the  same  change.  Nor  have  we 
of  active  power  (which  is  the  more  proper  signification 
of  the  word  "  power  ")  fewer  instances ;  since,  what- 
ever change  is  observed,  the  mind  must  collect  a  power 
somewhere,  able  to  make  that  change,  as  well  as  a 
possibility  in  the  thing  itself  to  receive  it.  But  yet, 
if  we  will  consider  it  attentively,  bodies,  by  our  senses, 
do  not  afford  us  so  clear  and  distinct  an  idea  of  active 
power,  as  we  have  from  reflection  on  the  operations 
of  our  minds.  For,  all  power  relating  to  action,  and 
there  being  but  two  sorts  of  action  whereof  we  have 
any  idea,  viz.,  thinking  and  motion,  let  us  consider 
whence  we  have  the  clearest  ideas  of  the  powers  which 
produce  these  actions,  (i.)  Of  thinking,  body  af- 
fords us  no  idea  at  all:  it  is  only  from  reflection  that 
we  have  that.  (2.)  Neither  have  we  from  body  any 
idea  of  the  beginning  of  motion.  A  body  at  rest  af- 
fords us  no  idea  of  any  active  power  to  move;  and 
when  it  is  set  in  motion  itself,  that  motion  is  rather  a 
passion  than  an  action  in  it.  For  when  the  ball  obeys 
the  stroke  of  a  billiard-stick,  it  is  not  any  action  of 


130     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

the  ball,  but  bare  passion :  also  when  by  impulse  it  sets 
another  ball  in  motion  that  lay  in  its  way,  it  only  com- 
municates the  motion  it  had  received  from  another,  -and 
loses  in  itself  so  much  as  the  other  received;  which 
gives  us  but  a  very  obscure  idea  of  an  active 
power  of  moving  in  body,  whilst  we  observe  it  only 
to  transfer  but  not  produce  any  motion.  For  it 
is  but  a  very  obscure  idea  of  power,  which 
reaches  not  the  production  of  the  action,  but  the 
continuation  of  the  passion.  For  so  is  motion,  in  a 
body  impelled  by  another:  The  continuation  of  the 
alteration  made  in  it  from  rest  to  motion  being  little 
more  an  action,  than  the  continuation  of  the  alteration 
of  its  figure  by  the  same  blow  is  an  action.  The  idea 
of  the  beginning  of  motion  we  have  only  from  reflec- 
tion on  what  passes  in  ourselves,  where  we  find  by 
experience,  that,  barely  by  willing  it»  barely  by  a 
thought  of  the  mind,  we  can  move  the  parts  of  our 
bodies  which  were  before  at  rest.  So  that  it  seems  to 
me,  we  have,  from  the  observation  of  the  operation  of 
bodies  by  our  senses,  but  a  very  imperfect,  obscure, 
idea  of  active  power,  since  they  afford  us  not  any  idea 
in  themselves  of  the  power  to  begin  any  action,  either 
motion  or  thought.  But  if  from  the  impulse  bodies 
are  observed  to  make  one  upon  another,  any  one  thinks 
he  has  a  clear  idea  of  power,  it  serves  as  well  to  my 
purpose,  sensation  being  one  of  those  ways  whereby 
the  mind  comes  by  its  ideas ;  only  I  thought  it  worth 
while  to  consider  here  by  the  way,  whether  the  mind 
doth  not  receive  its  idea  of  active  power  clearer  from 
reflection  on  its  own  operations,  than  it  doth  from  any 
external  sensation. 

5.     Will  and  understanding,  two  powers. —  This  at 
least  I  think  evident,  that  we  find  in  ourselves  a  power 


OF  POWER.  131 

to  begin  or  forbear,  continue  or  end,  several  [actions] 
of  our  minds  and  motions  of  our  bodies,  barely  by  [a 
thought]  or  preference  of  the  mind  [ordering,  or,  as  it 
were,  commanding  the  doing  or  not  doing  such  or 
such  a  particular  action.]  This  power  which  the  mind 
has  [thus  to  order]  the  consideration  of  any  idea,  or 
the  forbearing  to  consider  it,  or  to  prefer  the  motion 
of  any  part  of  the  body  to  its  rest,  [and  vice  versa,  in 
any  particular  instance,]  is  that  which  we  call  "  the 
will."  The  actual  [exercise  of  that  power,  by  directing 
any  particular  action  or  its  forbearance,]  is  that  which 
we  call  "  volition  "  or  "  willing/'  [The  forbearance  of 
that  action  consequent  to  such  order  or  command  of" 
the  mind,  is  called  "  voluntary ;  "  and  whatsoever  ac- 
tion is  performed  without  such  a  thought  of  the  mind, 
is  called  "  involuntary."]  The  power  of  perception  is 
that  which  we  call  "  the  understanding."  Perception, 
which  we  make  the  act  of  the  understanding,  is  of 
three  sorts:  (i.)  The  perception  of  ideas  in  our 
minds.  (2.)  The  perception  of  the  signification  of 
signs.  (3.)  The  perception  of  the  [connexion  or  re- 
pugnancy,] agreement  or  disagreement,  [that  there  is 
between  any  of  our]  ideas.  All  thesa  are  attributed 
to  the  understanding,  or  perceptive  power,  though  it 
be  [the  two  latter  only  that  use  allows  us  to  say  we 
understand.] 

6.  Faculties. —  These  powers  of  the  mind,  viz.,  of 
perceiving  and  of  preferring,  are  usually  called  by 
another  name :  and  the  ordinary  way  of  speaking,  is 
that  the  understanding  and  will  are  two  faculties  of 
the  mind ;  a  word  proper  enough,  if  it  be  used,  as  all 
words  should  be,  so  as  not  to  breed  any  confusion  in 
men's  thoughts  by  being  supposed  (as  I  suspect  it 
has  been)  to  stand  for  some  real  beings  in  the  soul, 


132     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

that  performed  those  actions  of  understanding  and 
volition.  For  when  we  say,  the  will  is  the  command- 
ing and  superior  faculty  of  the  soul;  that  it  is  or  is 
not  free ;  that  it  determines  the  inferior  faculties ;  that 
it  follows  the  dictates  of  the  understanding,  &c. ; 
though  these  and  the  like  expressions,  by  those  that 
carefully  attend  to  their  own  ideas,  and  conduct  their 
thoughts  more  by  the  evidence  of  things  than  the 
sound  of  words,  may  be  understood  in  a  clear  and 
distinct  sense:  yet  I  suspect,  I  say,  that  this  way  of 
speaking  of  faculties  has  misled  many  into  a  confused 
notion  of  so  many  distinct  agents  in  us,  which  had  their 
several  provinces  and  authorities,  and  did  command, 
obey,  and  perform  several  actions,  as  so  many  distinct 
beings;  which  has  been  no  small  occasion  of  wrang- 
ling, obscurity,  and  uncertainty  in  questions  relating  to 
them. 

7.  Whence  the  ideas  of  liberty  and  necessity. — 
Every  one,  I  think,  finds  in  himself  a  power  to  begin 
or  forbear,  continue  or  put  an  end  to,  several  actions 
in  himself.     [From  the  consideration  of  the  extent  of 
this  power  of  the  mind  over  the  actions  of  the  man, 
which  every  one  finds  in  himself,  arise  the  ideas  of 
liberty  and  necessity.] 

8.  Liberty,  what. —  All  the  actions  that  we  have  any 
idea  of,  reducing  themselves,  as  has  been  said,  to  these 
two,  viz.,  thinking  and  motion,  so  far  as  a  man  has 
a  power  to  think  or  not  to  think,  to  move  or  not  to 
move,  according  to  the  preference  or  direction  of  his 
own  mind,  so  far  is  a  man  free.     Wherever  any  per- 
formance or  forbearance  are  not  equally  in  a  man's 
power,  wherever  doing  or  not  doing  will  not  equally 
follow  upon  the  preference  of  his  mind  directing  it, 
there  he  is  not  free,  though  perhaps  the  action  may 


OF  POWER.  133 

be  voluntary.  So  that  the  idea  of  liberty  is  the  idea 
of  a  power  in  any  agent  to  do  or  forbear  any  partic- 
ular action,  according  to  the  determination  or  thought 
of  the  mind,  whereby  either  of  them  is  preferred  to 
the  other;  where  either  of  them  is  not  in  the  power 
of  the  agent,  to  be  produced  by  him  according  to  his 
volition,  there  he  is  not  at  liberty,  that  agent  is  under 
necessity.  So  that  liberty  cannot  be  where  there  is  no 
thought,  no  volition,  no  will ;  but  there  may  be  thought, 
there  may  be  will,  there  may  be  volition,  where  there 
is  no  liberty.  A  little  consideration  of  an  obvious  in- 
stance or  two  may  make  this  clear. 

9.  Supposes  the  understanding  and  will. —  A  tennis- 
ball,  whether  in  motion  by  the  stroke  of  a  racket,  or 
lying  still  at  rest,  is  not  by  any  one  taken  to  be  a 
free  agent.  If  we  inquire  into  the  reason,  we  shall 
find  it  is,  because  we  conceive  not  a  tennis-ball  to  think, 
and  consequently  not  to  have  any  volition,  or  prefer- 
ence of  motion  to  rest,  or  vice  versa;  and  therefore 
has  not  liberty,  is  not  a  free  agent ;  but  all  its  both  mo- 
tion and  rest  come  under  our  idea  of  necessary,  and 
are  so  called.  Likewise  a  man  falling  into  the  water 
(a  bridge  breaking  under  him)  has  not  herein  lib- 
erty, is  not  a  free  agent.  For  though  he  has  volition, 
though  he  prefers  his  not  falling  to  falling;  yet  the 
forbearance  of  that  motion  not  being  in  his  power, 
the  stop  or  cessation  of  that  motion  follows  not  upon 
his  volition;  and  therefore  therein  he  is  not  free.  So 
a  man  striking  himself  or  his  friend,  by  a  convulsive 
motion  of  his  arm,  which  it  is  not  in  his  power,  by 
volition  or  the  direction  of  his  mind,  to  stop  or  forbear, 
nobody  thinks  he  has,  in  this,  liberty ;  every  one  pities 
him,  as  acting  by  necessity  and  restraint. 

10.    Belongs  not  to  volition. —  Again:  Suppose  a 


134     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

man  be  carried,  whilst  fast  asleep,  into  a  room,  where 
is  a  person  he  longs  to  see  and  speak  with,  and  be  there 
locked  fast  in,  beyond  his  power  to  get  out ;  he  awakes, 
and  is  glad  to  find  himself  in  so  desirable  company, 
which  he  stays  willingly  in,  i.e.,  prefers  his  stay  to 
going  away.  I  ask,  is  not  this  stay  voluntary?  I 
think  nobody  will  doubt  it;  and  yet,  being  locked  fast 
in,  it  is  evident  he  is  not  at  liberty  not  to  stay,  he 
has  not  freedom  to  be  gone.  So  that  liberty  is  not 
an  idea  belonging  to  volition,  or  preferring ;  but  to  the 
person  having  the  power  of  doing,  or  forbearing  to 
do,  according  as  the  mind  shall  choose  or  direct.  Our 
idea  of  liberty  reaches  as  far  as  that  power,  and  no 
farther.  For  wherever  restraint  comes  to  check  that 
power,  or  compulsion  takes  away  that  indifferency  of 
ability  to  act,  or  to  forbear  acting,  there  liberty,  and  our 
notion  of  it,  presently  ceases. 

ii.  Voluntary  opposed  to  involuntary,  not  to  nec- 
essary.—  We  have  instances  enough,  and  often  more 
than  enough,  in  our  own  bodies.  A  man's  heart  beats, 
and  the  blood  circulates,  which  it  is  not  in  his  power  by 
any  thought  or  volition  to  stop;  and  therefore,  in 
respect  of  these  motions,  where  rest  depends  not  on  his 
choice,  nor  would  follow  the  determination  of  his  mind, 
if  it  should  prefer  it,  he  is  not  a  free  agent.  Convul- 
sive motions  agitate  his  legs,  so  that,  though  he  wills 
it  ever  so  much,  he  cannot  by  any  power  of  his  mind 
stop  their  motion  (as  in  that  odd  disease  called  chorea 
sancti  Viti),  but  he  is  perpetually  dancing:  he  is  not 
at  liberty  in  this  action,  but  under  as  much  necessity 
of  moving  as  a  stone  that  falls  or  a  tennis-ball  struck 
with  a  racket.  On  the  other  side,  a  palsy  or  the  stocks 
hinder  his  legs  from  obeying  the  determination  of  his 
mind,  if  it  would  thereby  transfer  his  body  to  another 


OF  POWER.  135 

place.  In  all  these  there  is  want  of  freedom,  though 
the  sitting  still  even  of  a  paralytic,  whilst  he  prefers 
it  to  a  removal,  is  truly  voluntary.  Voluntary,  then, 
is  not  opposed  to  necessary,  but  to  involuntary.  For 
a  man  may  prefer  what  he  can  do,  to  what  he  cannot 
do ;  the  state  he  is  in,  to  its  absence  or  change,  though 
necessity  has  made  it  in  itself  unalterable. 

12.  Liberty,  what. —  As  it  is  in  the  motions  of  the 
body,  so  it  is  in  the  thoughts  of  our  minds :  where 
any  one  is  such,  that  we  have  power  to  take  it  up,  or 
lay  it  by,  according  to  the  preference  of  the  mind,  there 
we  are  at  liberty.  A  waking  man,  being  under  the 
necessity  of  having  some  ideas  constantly  in  his  mind, 
is  not  at  liberty  to  think,  or  not  to  think,  no  more 
than  he  is  at  liberty,  whether  his  body  shall  touch  any 
other  or  no:  but  whether  he  will  remove  his  contem- 
plation from  one  idea  to  another,  is  many  times  in  his 
choice ;  and  then  he  is,  in  respect  of  his  ideas,  as  much 
at  liberty  as  he  is  in  respect  of  bodies  he  rests  on:  he 
can  at  pleasure  remove  himself  from  one  to  another. 
But  yet  some  ideas  to  the  mind,  like  some  motions  to 
the  body,  are  such  as  in  certain  circumstances  it  can- 
not avoid,  nor  obtain  their  absence  by  the  utmost  effort 
it  can  use.  A  man  on  the  rack  is  not  at  liberty  to  lay 
by  the  idea  of  pain,  and  divert  himself  with  other 
contemplations:  and  sometimes  a  boisterous  passion 
hurries  our  thoughts,  as  a  hurricane  does  our  bodies, 
without  leaving  us  the  liberty  of  thinking  on  other 
things,  which  we  would  rather  choose.  But  as  soon 
as  the  mind  regains  the  power  to  stop  or  continue,  be- 
gin or  forbear  any  of  these  motions  of  the  body  with- 
out, or  thoughts  within,  according  as  it  thinks  fit  to 
prefer  either  to  the  other,  we  then  consider  the  man 
as  a  free  agent  again. 


136     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

13.  Necessity,  what. —  Wherever  thought  is  wholly 
wanting,  or  the  power  to  act  or  forbear  according  to 
the  direction  of  thought,  there  necessity  takes  place. 
This,  in  an  agent  capable  of  volition,  when  the  begin- 
ning or  continuation  of  any  action  is  contrary  to  that 
preference  of  his  mind,  is  called  "  compulsion ;  "  when 
the  hindering  or  stopping  any  action  is  contrary  to  this 
volition,  it  is  called   "  restraint."     Agents  that  have 
no  thought,  no  volition  at  all,  are  in  every  thing  neces- 
sary agents. 

14.  Liberty  belongs  not  to  the  will. —  If  this  be  so 
(as  I  imagine  it  is),  I  leave  it  to  be  considered,  wheth- 
er it  may  not  help  to  put  an  end  to  that  long  agitated, 
and  I  think  unreasonable,  because  unintelligible  ques- 
tion, viz.,  Whether  man's  will  be  free  or  no?     For,  if 
I  mistake  not,  it  follows,  from  what  I  have  said  that 
the  question  itself  is  altogether  improper;  and  it  is 
as  insignificant  to  ask  whether  man's  will  be  free,  as  to 
ask  wrhether  his  sleep  be  swift,  or  his  virtue  square: 
liberty  being  as  little  applicable  to  the  will,  as  swiftness 
of  motion  is  to  sleeep,  or  squareness  to  virtue.     Every 
one  would  laugh  at  the  absurdity  of  such  a  question 
as  either  of  these ;  because  it  is  obvious  that  the  modi- 
fications of  motion  belong  not  to  sleep,  nor  the  differ- 
ence of  figure  to  virtue:  and  when  any  one  well  con- 
siders it,  I  think  he  will  as  plainly  perceive,  that  liberty, 
which  is  but  a  power,  belongs  only  to  agents,  and  can- 
not be  an  attribute  or  modification  of  the  will,  which  is 
also  but  a  power. 

15.  Volition. —  [Such  is  the  difficulty  of  explaining 
and  giving  clear  notions  of  internal  actions  by  sounds, 
that  I  must  here  warn  my  reader  that  "  ordering,  di- 
recting, choosing,  preferring,"  &c.,  which  I  have  made 
use  of,  will  not  distinctly  enough  express  volition  unless 


OF  POWER.  137 

he  will  reflect  on  what  he  himself  does  when  he  wills. 
For  example :  "  Preferring,"  which  seems  perhaps 
best  to  express  the  act  of  volition,  does  it  not  precisely. 
For  though  a  man  would  prefer  flying  to  walking,  yet 
who  can  say  he  ever  wills  it?  Volition,  it  is  plain,  is 
an  act  of  the  mind  knowingly  exerting  that  dominion 
it  takes  itself  to  have  over  any  part  of  the  man,  by 
employing  it  in  or  withholding  it  from  any  partic- 
ular action.]  And  what  is  the  will,  but  the  faculty  to 
do  this  ?  And  is  that  faculty  any  thing  more  in  effect 
than  a  power, —  the  power  of  [the  mind  to  determine  its 
thought  to  the  producing,  continuing,  or  stopping  any 
action,  as  far  as  it  depends  on  us  ?]  For,  can  it  be  de- 
nied, that  whatever  agent  has  a  power  to  think  on  its 
own  actions,  and  to  prefer  their  doing  or  omission 
either  to  other,  has  that  faculty  called  "  will  ?  "  Will 
then  is  nothing  but  such  a  power.  Liberty,  on  the 
other  side,  is  the  power  a  man  has  to  do  or  forbear 
doing  any  particular  action,  according  as  its  doing  or 
forbearance  has  the  actual  preference  in  the  mind; 
which  is  the  same  thing  as  to  say,  according  as  he 
himself  wills  it. 

1 6.  Powers  belong  to  agents. —  It  is  plain  then  that 
the  will  is  nothing  but  one  power  or  ability,  and  free- 
dom another  power  or  ability:  so  that  to  ask  whether 
the  will  has  freedom,  is  to  ask  whether  one  power  has 
another  power,  one  ability  another  ability?  a  question 
at  first  sight  too  grossly  absurd  to  make  a  dispute,  or 
need  an  answer.  For  who  is  it  that  sees  not,  that 
powers  belong  only  to  agents,  and  are  attributes  only 
of  substances,  and  not  of  powers  themselves?  So  that 
this  way  of  putting  the  question,  viz.,  Whether  the  will 
be  free?  is  in  effect  to  ask,  Whether  the  will  be  a 
substance,  an  agent?  or  at  least  to  suppose  it,  since 


138     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

freedom  can  properly  be  attributed  to  nothing  else. 
If  freedom  can  with  any  propriety  of  speech  be  applied 
to  power,  it  may  be  attributed  to  the  power  that  is  in  a 
man  to  produce  or  forbear  producing  motion  in  parts 
of  his  body,  by  choice  or  preference;  which  is  that 
which  denominates  him  free,  and  is  freedom  itself. 
But  if  any  one  should  ask  whether  freedom  were  free, 
he  would  be  suspected  not  to  understand  well  what  he 
said ;  and  he  would  be  thought  to  deserve  Midas's  ears, 
who,  knowing  that  "  rich  "  was  a  denomination  from 
the  possession  of  riches,  should  demand  whether  riches 
themselves  were  rich. 

17.  However  the  name  "  faculty  "  which  men  have 
given  to  this  power  called  the  "  will,"  and  whereby 
they  have  been  led  into  a  way  of  talking  of  the  will 
as  acting,  may,  by  an  appropriation  that  disguises  its 
true  sense,  serve  a  little  to  palliate  the  absurdity;  yet 
the  will,  in  truth,  signifies  nothing  but  a  power  or  abil- 
ity to  prefer  or  choose;  and  when  the  will,  under  the 
name  of  a  "  faculty,"  is  considered  as  it  is,  barely  as 
an  ability  to  do  something,  the  absurdity  in  saying  it  is 
free  or  not  free,  will  easily  discover  itself.  For  if  it 
be  reasonable  to  suppose  and  talk  of  faculties  as  dis- 
tinct beings  that  can  act  (as  we  do  when  we  say, 
"  The  will  orders,"  and  "  The  will  is  free,")  it  is  fit 
that  we  should  make  a  speaking  faculty,  and  a  walking 
faculty,  and  a  dancing  faculty,  by  which  those  actions 
are  produced  which  are  but  several  modes  of  motion; 
as  well  as  we  make  the  will  and  understanding  to  be 
faculties  by  which  the  actions  of  choosing  and  perceiv- 
ing are  produced,  which  are  but  several  modes  of 
thinking;  and  we  may  as  properly  say,  that  it  is  the 
singing  faculty  sings,  and  the  dancing  faculty  dances, 
as  that  the  will  chooses,  or  that  the  understanding  con- 


OF  POWER.  139 

ceives;  or,  as  is  usual,  that  the  will  directs  the  under- 
standing, or  the  understanding  obeys  or  obeys  not  the 
will:  it  being  altogether  as  proper  and  intelligible  to 
say,  that  the  power  of  speaking  directs  the  power  of 
singing,  or  the  power  of  singing  obeys  or  disobeys  the 
power  of  speaking. 

18.  This    way   of   talking,    nevertheless,   has   pre- 
vailed, and,  as  I  guess,  produced  great  confusion.   For, 
these  being  all  different  powers  in  the  mind  or  in  the 
man  to  do  several  actions,  he  exerts  them  as  he  thinks 
fit :  but  the  power  to  do  one  action  is  not  operated  on 
by  the  power  of  doing  another  action.     For  the  power 
of  thinking  operates  not  on  the  power  of  choosing, 
nor  the  power  of  choosing  on  the  power  of  thinking; 
no  more  than  the  power  of  dancing  operates  on  the 
power  of  singing,  or  the  power  of  singing  on  the 
power  of  dancing:  as  any  one  who  reflects  on  it  will 
easily  perceive:  and  yet  this  is  it  which  we  say  when 
we  thus  speak,  that  the  will  operates  on  the  under- 
standing, or  the  understanding  on  the  will. 

19.  I  grant  that  this  or  that  actual  thought  may 
be  the  occasion  of  volition,  or  exercising  the  power 
a  man  has  to  choose ;  or  the  actual  choice  of  the  mind, 
the  cause  of  actual  thinking  on  this  or  that  thing:  as 
the  actual  singing  of  such  a  tune  may  be  the  cause 
of  dancing  such  a  dance ;  and  the  actual  dancing  of 
such  a  dance,  the  occasion  of  singing  such  a  tune. 
But  in  all  these  it  is  not  one  power  that  operates  on 
another ;  but  it  is  the  mind  that  operates  and  exerts 
these  powers  ;  it  is  the  man  that  does  the  action,  it  is  the 
agent  that  has  power,  or  is  able  to  do.     For  powers  are 
relations,  not  agents :  and  that  which  has  the  power 
or  not  the  power  to  operate,  is  that  alone  which  is  or 
is  not  free,  and  not  the  power  itself:  for  freedom, 


140     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

or  not  freedom,  can  belong  to  nothing  but  what  has 
or  has  not  a  power  to  act. 

2Q.  Liberty  belongs  not  to  the  will. —  The  attribut- 
ing to  faculties  that  which  belonged  not  to  them,  has 
given  occasion  to  this  way  of  talking :  but  the  introduc- 
ing into  discourses  concerning  the  mind,  with  the 
name  of  faculties,  a  notion  of  their  operating,  has,  I 
suppose,  as  little  advanced  our  knowledge  in  that  part 
of  ourselves,  as  the  great  use  and  mention  of  the  like 
invention  of  faculties  in  the  operations  of  the  body 
has  helped  us  in  the  knowledge  of  physic.  Not  that  I 
deny  there  are  faculties,  both  in  the  body  and  mind: 
they  both  of  them  have  their  powers  of  operating,  else 
neither  the  one  nor  the  other  could  operate.  For  noth- 
ing can  operate  that  is  not  able  to  operate ;  and  that  is 
not  able  to  operate  that  has  no  power  to  operate.  Xor 
do  I  deny  that  those  words,  and  the  like,  are  to  have 
their  place  in  the  common  use  of  languages  that  have 
made  them  current.  It  looks  like  too  much  affectation 
wholly  to  lay  them  by:  and  philosophy  itself,  though 
it  likes  not  a  gaudy  dress,  yet  when  it  appears  in  pub- 
lic, must  have  so  much  complacency  as  to  be  clothed 
in  the  ordinary  fashion  and  language  of  the  country, 
so  far  as  it  can  consist  with  truth  and  perspicuity. 
But  the  fault  has  been  that  faculties  have  been  spoken 
of  and  represented  as  so  many  distinct  agents.  For 
it  being  asked,  what  it  was  that  digested  the  meat  in 
our  stomachs?  it  was  a  ready  and  very  satisfactory 
answer,  to  say,  that  it  was  the  digestive  faculty. 
"  What  was  it  that  made  any  thing  come  out  of  the 
body  ?  "  The  expulsive  faculty.  "  What  moved  ?  " 
The  motive  faculty:  and  so  in  the  mind,  the  intellec- 
tual faculty,  or  the  understanding,  understood ;  and 
the  elective  faculty,  or  the  will,  willed  or  commanded. 


OF  POWER.  141 

This  is,  in  short,  to  say  that  the  ability  to  digest,  di- 
gested ;  and  the  ability  to  move,  moved ;  and  the  ability 
to  understand,  understood.  For  "  faculty,  ability,  and 
power,"  I  think,  are  but  different  names  of  the  same 
things:  which  ways  of  speaking,  when  put  into  more 
intelligible  words,  will,  I  think,  amount  to  thus  much; 
that  digestion  is  performed  by  something  that  is  able 
to  digest;  motion,  by  something  able  to  move;  and 
understanding,  by  something  able  to  understand.  And 
in  truth  it  would  be  very  strange,  if  it  should  be  other- 
wise; as  strange  as  it  would  be  for  a  man  to  be  free 
without  being  able  to  be  free. 

21.  But  to  the  agent  or  man. —  To  return,  then,  to 
the  inquiry  about  liberty,  I  think  the  question  is  not 
proper,  whether  the  will  be  free,  but  whether  a  man  be 
free.  Thus,  I  think. 

First.  That  so  far  as  any  one  can,  by  [the  direction 
or  choice  of  his  mind  preferring]  the  existence  of  any 
action  to  the  non-existence  of  that  action,  and  vice 
versa,  make  it  to  exist  or  not  exist,  so  far  he  is  free. 
For  if  I  can  by  [a  thought  directing]  the  motion  of  my 
finger  make  it  move  when  it  was  at  rest,  or  vice  versa, 
it  is  evident  that,  in  respect  of  that,  I  am  free ;  and  if 
I  can,  by  a  like  thought  of  my  mind  preferring  one 
to  the  other,  produce  either  words  "or  silence,  I  am  at 
liberty  to  speak  or  hold  my  peace:  and  as  far  as  this 
power  reaches,  of  acting  or  not  acting,  by  the  deter- 
mination of  his  own  thought  preferring  either,  so  far 
is  a  man  free.  For  how  can  we  think  any  one  freer 
than  to  have  the  power  to  do  what  he  will?  And  so 
far  as  any  one  can,  by  preferring  any  action  to  its 
not  being,  or  rest  to  any  action,  produce  that  action  or 
rest,  so  far  can  he  do  what  he  will.  For  such  a  pre- 
ferring of  action  to  its  absence,  is  the  willing  of  it; 


J42     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

and  we  can  scarce  tell  how  to  imagine  any  being  freer 
than  to  be  able  to  do  what  he  wills.  So  that,  in  respect 
of  actions  within  the  reach  of  such  a  power  in  him,  a 
man  seems  as  free  as  it  is  possible  for  freedom  to  make 
him. 

22.  In  respect  of  vcilling  a  man  is  not  free. —  But 
the  inquisitive  mind  of  man,  willing  to  shift  off  from 
himself,  as  far  as  he  can,  all  thoughts  of  guilt,  though 
it  be  by  putting  himself  into  a  worse  state  than  that 
of  fatal  necessity,  is  not  content  with  this:  freedom, 
unless  it  reaches  farther  than  this,  will  not  serve  the 
turn:  and  it  passes  for  a  good  plea,  that  a  man  is  not 
free  at  all,  if  he  be  not  as  free  to  will  as  he  is  to  act 
what  he  wills.     Concerning  a  man's  liberty,  there  yet 
therefore  is   raised  this   farther  question,   whether  a 
man  be  free  to  will?  which,  I  think,  is  what  is  meant, 
when  it  is  disputed  whether  the  will  be  free.    And  as 
to  that  I  imagine, 

23.  Secondly.    That  willing  or  volition  being  an  ac- 
tion, and  freedom  consisting  in  a  power  of  acting  or 
not  acting,  a  man,  in  respect  of  willing  [or  the  act  of 
volition,]  when  any  action  in  his  power  is  once  proposed 
to  his  thoughts,  [as  presently  to  be  done,]  cannot  be 
free.    The  reason  whereof  is  very  manifest :  for  it  being 
unavoidable  that  the  action  depending  on  his  will  should 
exist  or  not  exist,  and  its  existence  or  not-existence 
following  perfectly  the  determination  and  preference 
of  his  will,  he  cannot  avoid  willing  the  existence  or  not 
existence  of   that  action;   it   is   absolutely   necessary 
that  he  will  the  one  or  the  other,  i.e.,  prefer  the  one 
to  the  other;  since  one  of  them  must  necessarily  fol- 
low ;  and  that  which  does  follow,  follows  by  the  choice 
and  determination  of  his  mind ;  that  is,  by  his  willing 
it :  for  if  he  did  not  will  it,  it  would  not  be.     So  that, 


OF  POWER.  143 

in  respect  of  the  act  of  willing,  a  man  [in  such  a  case] 
is  not  free:  liberty  consisting  in  a  power  to  act  or  not 
to  act,  which,  in  regard  of  volition,  a  man  [upon  such 
a  proposal]  has  not.  [For  it  is  unavoidably  necessary 
to  prefer  the  doing  or  forbearance  of  an  action  in  a 
man's  power,  which  is  once  so  proposed  to  his 
thoughts;  a  man  must  necessarily  will  the  one  or  the 
other  of  them :  upon  which  preference  or  volition,  the 
action  or  its  forbearance  certainly  follows,  and  is  truly 
voluntary.  But  the  act  of  volition,  or  preferring  one 
of  the  two,  being  that  \vhich  he  cannot  avoid,  a  man, 
in  respect  of  that  act  of  willing,  is  under  a  necessity, 
and  so  cannot  be  free ;  unless  necessity  and  freedom 
can  consist  together,  and  a  man  can  be  free  and  bound 
at  once.]  *  *  * 

24.  This  then  is  evident,  that  a  man  is  not  at  liberty 
to  will  or  not  to  will,  anything  in  his  power  that  he 
once  considers  of;  liberty  consisting  in  a  power  to  act, 
or  to  forbear  acting,  and  in  that  only.  For  a  man  that 
sits  still  is  said  yet  to  be  at  liberty,  because  he  can  walk 
if  he  wills  it.  A  man  that  walks  is  at  liberty  also,  not 
because  he  walks  or  moves ;  but  because  he  can  stand 
still  if  he  wills  it.  But  if  a  man  sitting  still  has  not 
a  power  to  remove  himself,  he  is  not  at  liberty ;  so  like- 
wise a  man  falling  down  a  precipice,  though  in  mo- 
tion, is  not  at  liberty,  because  he  cannot  stop  that 
motion  if  he  would.  This  being  so,  it  is  plain  that 
a  man  that  is  walking,  to  whom  it  is  proposed  to  give 
off  walking,  is  not  at  liberty  whether  he  will  de- 
termine himself  to  walk  or  give  off  walking,  or  not, 
he  must  necessarily  prefer  one  or  the  other  of  them, 
walking  or  not  walking;  and  so  it  is  in  regard  of 
all  other  actions  in  our  power  [so  proposed,  which 
are  the  far  greater  number.  For,  considering  the 


144     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

vast  number  of  voluntary  actions  that  succeed  one 
another  every  moment  that  we  are  awake  in  the  course 
of  our  lives,  there  are  but  few  of  them  that  are  thought 
on  or  proposed  to  the  will,  till  the  time  they  are  to  be 
done:  and  in  all  such  actions,  as  I  have  shown,  the 
mind,  in  respect  of  willing,]  has  not  a  power  to  act 
or  not  to  act,  wherein  consists  liberty.  The  mind  in 
that  case  has  not  a  power  to  forbear  willing;  it  can- 
not avoid  some  determination  concerning  them.  Let 
the  consideration  be  as  short,  the  thought  as  quick, 
as  it  will,  it  either  leaves  the  man  in  the  state  he 
was  before  thinking,  or  changes  it;  continues  the  ac- 
tion, or  puts  an  end  to  it.  Whereby  it  is  manifest, 
that  it  orders  and  directs  one  in  preference  to  or 
with  neglect  of  the  other,  and  thereby  either  the  con- 
tinuation or  change  becomes  unavoidably  voluntary. 

25.  The  will  determined  by  something  ivithout  it. — 
Since  then  it  is  plain  that  in  most  cases  a  man  is  not 
at  liberty  whether  he  will  or  no,  (for  when  an  action 
in  his  power  is  proposed  to  his  thoughts,  he  cannot 
forbear  volition;  he  must  determine  one  way  or  the 
other)  ;  the  next  thing  demanded  is,  whether  a  man  be 
at  liberty  to  will  which  of  the  two  he  pleases,  motion  or 
rest  ?  This  question  carries  the  absurdity  of  it  so  mani- 
festly in  itself,  that  one  might  thereby  sufficiently  be 
convinced  that  liberty  concerns  not  the  will.  For  to 
ask,  whether  a  man  be  at  liberty  to  will  either  motion 
or  rest,  speaking  or  silence,  which  he  pleases  ?  is  to  ask, 
whether  a  man  can  will  what  he  wills,  or  be  pleased 
with  what  he  is  pleased  with  ?  a  question  which,  I  think, 
needs  no  answer :  and  they  who  can  make  a  question  of 
it,  must  suppose  one  will  to  determine  the  acts  of  an- 
other, and  another  to  determine  that ;  and  so  on  in  in- 
finitum. 


OF  POWER.  145 

26.  To  avoid  these  and  the  like  absurdities,  nothing 
can  be  of  greater  use  than  to  establish  in  our  minds 
determined  ideas  of  the  things  under  consideration. 
If  the  ideas  of  liberty  and  volition  were  well  fixed  in 
our  understandings,  and  carried  along  with  us  in  our 
minds,  as  they  ought,  through  all  the  questions  that  are 
raised  about  them,  I  suppose  a  great  part  of  the  diffi- 
culties that  perplex  men's  thoughts  and  entangle  their 
understandings  would  be  much  easier  resolved;  and 
\ve  should  perceive  where  the  confused  signification 
of  terms,  or  where  the  nature  of  the  thing,  caused  the 
obscurity. 

27.  Freedom. —  First,  then,  it  is  carefully  to  be  re- 
membered, that  freedom  consists  in  the  dependence  of 
the  existence  or  not  existence  of  any  action  upon  our 
volition  of  it,  and  not  in  the  dependence  of  any  action, 
or  its  contrary,  on  our  preference.     A  man  standing 
on  a  cliff  is  at  liberty  to  leap  twenty  yards  downwards 
into  the  sea,  not  because  he  has  a  power  to  do  the 
contrary  action,  which  is  to  leap  twenty  yards  upwards, 
for  that  he  cannot  do ;  but  he  is  therefore  free,  because 
he  has  a  power  to  leap  or  not  to  leap.     But  if  a  great- 
er force  than  his  either  holds  him  fast,  or  tumbles  him 
down,  he  is  no  longer  free  in  that  case:  because  the 
doing  or  forbearance  of  that  particular  action  is  no 
longer  in  his  power.     He  that  is  a  close  prisoner  in  a 
room  twenty-feet  square,  being  at  the  north  side  of 
his  chamber,  is  at  liberty  to  walk  twenty  feet  south- 
ward, because  he  can  walk  or  not  walk  it ;  but  is  not  at 
the  same  time  at  liberty  to  do  the  contrary ;   i.  e.,  to 
walk  twenty  feet  northward. 

In  this,  then,  consists  freedom,  viz.,  in  our  being  able 
to  act,  or  not  to  act,  according  as  we  shall  choose  or 
will. 


146     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

28.  Volition  what. —  [Secondly.     We  must  remem- 
ber that  volition,  or  willing,  is  an  act  of  the  mind  di- 
recting its  thought  to  the  production  of  any  action, 
and  thereby   exerting  its  power  to  produce   it.     To 
avoid  multiplying  of  words,  I  would  crave  leave  here, 
under  the  word  "  action,"  to  comprehend  the  forbear- 
ance, too,  of  any  action  proposed ;  sitting  still,  or  hold- 
ing one's  peace,  when  walking  or  speaking  are  pro- 
posed, though  mere  forbearances,  requiring  as  much 
the   determination   of  the   will,   and   being   often    as 
weighty  in  their  consequences,  as  the  contrary  actions, 
may,  on  that  consideration,  well  enough  pass  for  ac- 
tions too :  but  this  I  say  that  I  may  not  be  mistaken,  if 
for  brevity's  sake  I  speak  thus. 

29.  What  determines  the  Kill. —  Thirdly.     The  will 
being  nothing  but  a  power  in  the  mind  to  direct  the 
operative  faculties  of  a  man  to  motion  or  rest,  as  far 
as   they  depend  on  such   direction;  to  the   question, 
"  What  is  it  determines  the  will  ?  "  the  true  and  proper 
answer  is,  The  mind.     For  that  which  determines  the 
general  power  of  directing  to  this  or  that  particular 
direction,  is  nothing  but  the  agent  itself  exercising  the 
power  it  has  that  particular  way.     If  this  answer  satis- 
fies not,  it  is  plain  the  meaning  of  the  question,  "  What 
determines  the  will  ?  "  is  this,  "  What  moves  the  mind 
in  every  particular  instance  to  determine  its  general 
power,  of  directing  to  this  or  that  particular  motion 
or  rest?"    And  to  this  I  answer,  The  motive  for  con- 
tinuing in  the  same  state  or  action  is  only  the  present 
satisfaction  in  it ;  the  motive  to  change  is  always  some 
uneasiness:   nothing  setting  us   upon  the  change   of 
state,  or  upon  any  new  action,  but  some  uneasiness. 
This  is  the  great  motive  that  works  on  the  mind  to  put 
it  upon  action,  which  for  shortness'  sake  we  will  call 


OF  POWER.  147 

"  determining  of  the  will ;  "  which  1  shall  more  at  large 
explain. 

30.  Will  and  desire  must  not  be  confounded. — But, 
in  the  way  to  it,  it  will  be  necessary  to  premise,  that 
though  I  have  above  endeavoured  to  express  the  act 
of  volition  by  "  choosing,  preferring,"  and  the  like 
terms,  that  signify  desire  as  well  as  volition,  for  want 
of  other  words  to  mark  that  act  of  the  mind  whose 
proper  name  is  "  willing  "  or  "  volition ;  "  yet  it  being 
a  very  simple  act,  whosoever  desires  to  understand 
what  it  is,  will  better  find  it  by  reflecting  on  his  own 
mind,  and  observing  what  it  does  when  it  wills,  than  by 
any  variety  of  articulate  sounds  whatsoever.  This 
caution  of  being  careful  not  to  be  misled  by  expres- 
sions that  do  not  enough  keep  up  the  difference 
between  the  will  and  several  acts  of  the  mind  that  are 
quite  distinct  from  it,  I  think  the  more  necessary,  be- 
cause I  find  the  will  often  confounded  with  several 
of  the  affections,  especially  desire ;  and  one  put  for 
the  other,  and  that  by  men  who  would  not  willingly 
be  thought  not  to  have  had  very  distinct  notions  of 
things,  and  not  to  have  writ  very  clearly  about  them. 
This,  I  imagine,  has  been  no  small  occasion  of  ob- 
scurity and  mistake  in  this  matter,  and  therefore  is  as 
much  as  may  be  to  be  avoided ;  for  he  that  shall  turn 
his  thoughts  inwards  upon  what  passes  in  his  mind 
when  he  wills,  shall  see  that  the  will  or  power  of  voli- 
tion is  conversant  about  nothing  but  our  own  actions ; 
terminates  there ;  and  reaches  no  further ;  and  that  voli- 
tion is  nothing  but  that  particular  determination 
of  the  mind  whereby,  barely  by  a  thought,  the  mind 
endeavours  to  give  rise,  continuation,  or  stop  to 
any  action  which  it  takes  to  be  in  its  power.  This, 
well  considered,  plainly  shows  that  the  will  is  per- 


148     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

fectly  distinguished  from  desire,  which  in  the  very 
same  action  may  have  a  quite  contrary  tendency  from 
that  which  our  will  sets  us  upon.  A  man,  whom 
I  cannot  deny,  may  oblige  me  to  use  persuasions  to 
another,  which,  at  the  present  time  I  am  speaking, 
I  may  wish  may  not  prevail  on  him.  In  this  case, 
it  is  plain  the  will  and  desire  run  counter.  I  will  the 
action  that  tends  one  way,  whilst  my  desire  tends 
another,  and  that  the  direct  contrary  way.  A  man  who, 
by  a  violent  fit  of  the  gout  in  his  limbs,  finds  a  dozi- 
ness in  his  head  or  a  want  of  appetite  in  his  stomach 
removed,  desires  to  be  eased  too  of  the  pain  of  his 
feet  or  hands  (for  wherever  there  is  pain  there  is  a 
desire  to  be  rid  of  it,  though  yet,  whilst  he  appre- 
hends that  the  removal  of  the  pain  may  translate  the" 
noxious  humour  to  a  more  vital  part,  his  will  is  never 
determined  to  any  one  action  that  may  serve  to  remove 
this  pain.  Whence  it  is  evident  that  desiring  and 
willing  are  two  distinct  acts  of  the  mind,  and  con- 
sequently that  the  will,  which  is  but  the  power  of 
volition,  is  much  more  distinct  from  desire. 

31.  Uneasiness  determines  the  will. —  To  return, 
then,  to  the  inquiry,  "  What  is  it  that  determines  the 
will  in  regard  to  our  actions  ?  "  And  that  upon  second 
thoughts  I  am  apt  to  imagine,  is  not,  as  is  generally 
supposed,  the  greater  good  in  view,  but  some  (and, 
for  the  most  part,  the  most  pressing)  uneasiness  a 
man  is  at  present  under.  This  is  that  which  suc- 
cessively determines  the  will,  and  sets  us  upon  those 
actions  we  perform.  This  uneasiness  we  may  call, 
as  it  is,  "  desire ;"  which  is  an  uneasiness  of  the  mind 
for  want  of  some  absent  good.  All  pain  of  the  body, 
of  what  sort  soever,  and  disquiet  of  the  mind,  is 
uneasiness;  and  with  this  is  always  joined  desire 


OF  POWER.  149 

equal  to  the  pain  or  uneasiness  felt,  and  is  scarce 
distinguishable  from  it.  For,  desire  being  nothing  but 
an  uneasiness  in  the  want  of  an  absent  good,  in  refer- 
ence to  any  pain  felt,  ease  is  that  absent  good ;  and  till 
that  ease  be  attained,  we  may  call  it  desire,  nobody 
feeling  pain  that  he  wishes  not  to  be  eased  of  with  a 
desire  equal  to  that  pain,  and  inseparable  from  it. 
Besides  this  desire  of  ease  from  pain,  there  is  another 
of  absent  positive  good;  and  here  also  the  desire  and 
uneasiness  is  equal.  As  much  as  we  desire  any  absent 
good,  so  much  are  we  in  pain  for  it.  But  here 
all  absent  good  does  not,  according  to  the  greatness 
it  has,  or  is  acknowledged  to  have,  cause  pain  equal 
to  that  greatness;  as  all  pain  causes  desire  equal  to 
itself:  because  the  absence  of  good  is  not  always  a 
pain,  as  the  presence  of  pain  is.  And  therefore  absent 
good  may  be  looked  on  and  considered  without  desire. 
But  so  much  as  there  is  any  where  of  desire,  so  much 
there  is  of  uneasiness. 

32.  Desire  is  uneasiness. —  That  desire  is  a  state  of 
uneasiness,   every  one   who  reflects   on   himself   will 
quickly  find.    Who  is  there  that  has  not  felt  in  desire 
what  the  wise  man  says  of  hope  (which  is  not  much 
different  from  it),  that  it  being  deferred  makes  the 
heart  sick?  and  that  still  proportionable  to  the  great- 
ness of  the  desire,  which  sometimes  raises  the  uneasi- 
ness to  that  pitch  that  it  makes  people  cry  out,  "  Give 
me  children,"  give  me  the  thing  desired,  "or  I  die?" 
Life  itself,  and  all  its  enjoyments,  is  a  burden  cannot 
be  borne  under  the  lasting  and  unremoved  pressure  of 
such  an  uneasiness. 

33.  The  uneasiness  of  desire  determines  the  will. 
—  Good  and  evil,  present  and  absent,  it  is  true,  work 
upon  the  mind;  but  that  which  immediately  deter- 


150     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

mines  the  will,  from  time  to  time,  to  every  voluntary 
action,  is  the  uneasiness  of  desire,  fixed  on  some 
absent  good,  either  negative,  as  indolence  to  one  in 
pain,  or  positive,  as  enjoyment  of  pleasure.  That  it 
is  this  uneasiness  that  determines  the  will  to  the  suc- 
cessive voluntary  actions  whereof  the  greatest  part 
of  our  lives  is  made  up,  and  by  which  we  are  con- 
ducted through  different  courses  to  different  ends,  I 
shall  endeavour  to  show  both  from  experience  and 
the  reason  of  the  thing. 

34.  This  the  spring  of  action. —  When  a  man  is 
perfectly  content  with  the  state  he  is  in,  which  is  when 
he  is  perfectly  without  any  uneasiness,  what  industry, 
what  action,  what  will  is  there  left,  but  to  continue 
in  it?     Of  this  every  man's  observation  will  satisfy 
him.     And  thus  we  see  our  all-wise  Maker,  suitable 
to  our  constitution  and  frame,  and  knowing  what  it 
is  that  determines  the  will,  has  put  into  man  the  un- 
easiness of  hunger  and  thirst,  and  other  natural  de- 
sires, that  return  at  their  seasons,  to  move  and  deter- 
mine their  wills,  for  the  preservation  of  themselves 
and  the  continuation  of  their  species.     For  I  think 
we  may  conclude,  that  if  the  bare  contemplation  of 
these  good  ends  to  which   we  are  carried  by  these 
several  uneasinesses,  had  been  sufficient  to  determine 
the  will,  and  set  us  on  work,  we  should  have  had  none 
of  these  natural  pains,  and  perhaps  in  this  world  little 
or  no  pain  at  all.    "  It  is  better  to  marry  than  to  burn," 
says  St.  Paul ;  where  we  may  see  what  it  is  that  chiefly 
drives  men  into  the  enjoyments  of  a  conjugal  life.    A 
little  burning  felt   pushes  us  more  powerfully  than 
greater  pleasures  in  prospect  draw  or  allure. 

35.  The  greatest  positive  good  determines  not  the 
will,  but  uneasiness. —  It  seems  so  established  and  set- 


OF  POWER.  151 

tied  a  maxim,  by  the  general  consent  of  all  mankind, 
that  good,  the  greater  good,  determines  the  will,  that 
I  do  not  at  all  wonder  that,  when  I  first  published  my 
thoughts  on  this  subject,  I  took  it  for  granted;  and 
I  imagine,  that  by  a  great  many  I  shall  be  thought 
more  excusable  for  having  then  done  so,  than  that 
now  I  have  ventured  to  recede  from  so  received  an 
opinion.  But  yet  upon  a  stricter  inquiry,  I  am  forced 
to  conclude  that  good,  the  greater  good,  though  ap- 
prehended and  acknowledged  to  be  so,  does  not  deter- 
mine the  will  until  our  desire,  raised  proportionably 
to  it,  makes  us  uneasy  in  the  want  of  it.  Convince  a 
man  never  so  much  that  plenty  has  its  advantages 
over  poverty;  make  him  see  and  own  that  the  hand- 
some conveniences  of  life  are  better  than  nasty  penury ; 
yet  as  long  as  he  is  content  with  the  latter,  and  finds 
no  uneasiness  in  it,  he  moves  not ;  his  will  never  is 
determined  to  any  action  that  shall  bring  him  out  of 
it.  Let  a  man  be  ever  so  well  persuaded  of  the 
advantages  of  virtue,  that  it  is  as  necessary  to  a  man 
who  has  any  great  aims  in  this  world  or  hopes  in  the 
next,  as  food  to  life :  yet  till  he  "  hungers  or  thirsts 
after  righteousness,"  till  he  feels  an  uneasiness  in  the 
want  of  it,  his  will  will  not  be  determined  to  any 
action  in  pursuit  of  this  confessed  greater  good;  but 
any  other  uneasiness  he  feels  in  himself  shall  take 
place  and  carry  his  will  to  other  actions.  On  the  other 
side,  let  a  drunkard  see  that  his  health  decays,  his 
estate  wastes;  discredit  and  diseases,  and  the  want  of 
all  things,  even  of  his  beloved  drink,  attends  him  in 
the  course  he  follows:  yet  the  returns  of  uneasiness 
to  miss  his  companions,  the  habitual  thirst  after  his 
cups,  at  the  usual  time,  drives  him  to  the  tavern,  though 
he  has  in  his  view  the  loss  of  health  and  plenty,  and 


152     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

perhaps  the  joys  of  another  life:  the  least  of  which  is 
no  inconsiderable  good,  but  such  as  he  confesses  is  far 
greater  than  the  tickling  of  his  palate  with  a  glass 
of  wine,  or  the  idle  chat  of  a  soaking  club.  It  is 
not  for  want  of  viewing  the  greater  good;  for  he 
sees  and  acknowledges  it,  and  in  the  intervals  of  his 
drinking  hours  will  take  resolutions  to  pursue  the 
greater  good;  but  when  the  uneasiness  to  miss  his 
accustomed  delight  returns,  the  greater  acknowledged 
good  loses  its  hold,  and  the  present  uneasiness  deter- 
mines the  will  to  the  accustomed  action ;  which  thereby 
gets  stronger  footing  to  prevail  against  the  next  occa- 
sion, though  he  at  the  same  time  makes  secret  prom- 
ises to  himself  that  he  will  do  so  no  more;  this  is  the 
last  time  he  will  act  against  the  attainment  of  those 
greater  goods.  And  thus  he  is,  from  time  to  time, 
in  the  state  of  that  unhappy  complainer,  Video  meliora 
proboque,  deteriora  seqnor:  which  sentence,  allowed 
for  true,  and  made  good  by  constant  experience,  may 
this  (and  possibly  no  other)  way  be  easily  made  in- 
telligible. 

36.  Because  the  removal  of  uneasiness  is  the  first 
step  to  happiness. —  If  we  inquire  into  the  reason  of 
what  experience  makes  so  evident  in  fact,  and  examine 
why  it  is  uneasiness  alone  operates  on  the  will,  and 
determines  it  in  its  choice,  we  shall  find  that  we  being 
capable  but  of  one  determination  of  the  will  to  one 
action  at  once,  the  present  uneasiness  that  we  are 
under  does  naturally  determine  the  will  in  order  to 
that  happiness  which  we  all  aim  at  in  all  our  actions: 
forasmuch  as  whilst  we  are  under  any  uneasiness,  we 
cannot  apprehend  ourselves  happy,  or  in  the  way  to 
it;  pain  and  uneasiness  being  by  every  one  concluded 
and  felt  to  be  inconsistent  with  happiness,  spoiling  the 


OF  POWER.  153 

relish  even  of  those  good  things  which  we  have;  a 
little  pain  serving  to  mar  all  the  pleasure  we  rejoiced 
in.  And  therefore  that  which  of  course  determines  the 
choice  of  our  will  to  the  next  action,  will  always  be 
the  removing  of  pain,  as  long  as  we  have  any  left,  as 
the  first  necessary  step  towards  happiness. 

37.  Because  uneasiness  alone  is  present. —  Another 
reason  why  it  is  uneasiness  alone  determines  the  will 
is  this :  because  that  alone  is  present,  and  it  is  against 
the    nature    of    things    that    what    is    absent    should 
operate  where  it  is  not.     It  may  be  said,  that  absent 
good  may,  by  contemplation,  be  brought  home  to  the 
mind,  and  made  present.     The  idea  of  it  indeed  may 
be  in  the  mind,  and  viewed  as  present  there ;  but  noth- 
ing will  be  in  the  mind  as  a  present  good,  able  to 
counterbalance  the  removal  of  any  uneasiness  which 
we  are  under,  till  it  raises  our  desire,  and  the  uneasi- 
ness of  that  has  the  prevalency  in  determining  the  will. 
Till  then  the  idea  in  the  mind  of  whatever  good,  is 
there  only  like  other  ideas,  the  object  of  bare  unactive 
speculation,  but  operates  not  on  the  will,  nor  sets  us 
on  work:  the  reason  whereof  I  shall  show  by  and  by. 
How  many  are  to  be  found  that  have  had  lively  repre- 
sentations set  before  their  minds  of  the  unspeakable 
joys  of  heaven,  which  they  acknowledge  both  possible 
and  probable  too,  who  yet  would  be  content  to  take  up 
with  their  happiness  here!  and  so  the  prevailing  un- 
easiness of  their  desires,  let  loose  after  the  enjoyments 
of  this  life,  take  their  turns  in  the  determining  their 
wills,  and  all  that  while  they  take  not  one  step,  are 
not  one  jot  moved,  towards  the  good  things  of  another 
life,  considered  as  ever  so  great. 

38.  Because  all  who  aUo^v  the  joys  of  heaven  pos- 
sible, pursue  them  not. —  Were  the  will  determined  by 


154     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

the  views  of  good,  as  it  appears  in  contemplation 
greater  or  less  to  the  understanding,  which  is  the  state 
of  all  absent  good,  and  that  which  in  the  received 
opinion  the  will  is  supposed  to  move  to  and  to  be 
moved  by,  I  do  not  see  how  it  could'  ever  get  loose 
from  the  infinite  eternal  joys  of  heaven,  once  proposed 
and  considered  as  possible.  For  all  absent  good,  by 
which  alone,  barely  proposed  and  coming  in  view,  the 
will  is  thought  to  be  determined,  and  so  to  set  us  on 
action,  being  only  possible,  but  not  infallibly  certain, 
it  is  unavoidable  that  the  infinitely  greater  possible 
good  should  regularly  and  constantly  determine  the 
will  in  all  the  succesive  actions  it  directs;  and  then 
we  should  keep  constantly  and  steadily  in  our  course 
towards  heaven,  without  ever  standing  still,  or  direct- 
ing our  actions  to  any  other  end :  the  eternal  condition 
of  a  future  state  infinitely  outweighing  the  expectation 
of  riches,  or  honour,  or  any  other  worldly  pleasure 
which  we  can  propose  to  ourselves,  though  we  should 
grant  these  the  more  probable  to  be  attained :  for  noth- 
ing future  is  yet  in  possession,  and  so  the  expectation 
even  of  these  may  deceive  us.  If  it  were  so,  that  the 
greater  good  in  view  determines  the  will,  so  great  a 
good  once  proposed  could  not  but  seize  the  will,  and 
hold  it  fast  to  the  pursuit  of  this  infinitely  greatest 
good,  without  ever  letting  it  go  again :  for  the  will 
having  a  power  over  and  directing  the  thoughts,  as  well 
as  other  actions,  would,  if  it  were  so,  hold  the  contem- 
plation of  the  mind  fixed  to  that  good. 

But  any  great  uneasiness  is  never  neglected. —  This 
would  be  the  state  of  the  mind,  and  regular  tendency 
of  the  will  in  all  its  determinations,  were  it  determined 
by  that  which  is  considered  and  in  view  the  greater 
good;  but  that  it  is  not  so,  is  visible  in  experience; 


OF  POWER.  155 

the  infinitely  greatest  confessed  good  being  often  neg- 
lected, to  satisfy  the  successive  uneasiness  of  our  de- 
sires pursuing  trifles.  But  though  the  greatest  al- 
lowed, even  everlasting  unspeakable,  good,  which  has 
sometimes  moved  and  affected  the  mind,  does  not 
steadfastly  hold  the  will,  yet  we  see  any  very  great 
and  prevailing  uneasiness,  having  once  laid  hold  on 
the  will,  let  it  not  go ;  by  which  we  may  be  convinced 
what  it  is  that  determines  the  will.  Thus  any  vehe- 
ment pain  of  the  body,  the  ungovernable  passion  of  a 
man  violently  in  love,  or  the  impatient  desire  of  re- 
venge, keeps  the  will  steady  and  intent :  and  the  will, 
thus  determined,  never  lets  the  understanding  lay  by 
the  object,  but  all  the  thoughts  of  the  mind  and 
powers  of  the  body  are  uninterruptedly  employed  that 
way,  by  the  determination  of  the  will,  influenced  by 
that  topping  uneasiness  as  long  as  it  lasts :  whereby  it 
seems  to  me  evident,  that  the  will,  or  power  of  setting 
us  upon  one  action  in  preference  to  all  others,  is  de- 
termined in  us  by  uneasiness :  and  whether  this  be  not 
so,  I  desire  every  one  to  observe  in  himself. 

39.  Desire  accompanies  all  uneasiness. —  I  have 
hitherto  chiefly  instanced  in  the  uneasiness  of  desire, 
as  that  which  determines  the  will;  because  that  is  the 
chief  and  most  sensible ;  and  the  will  seldom  orders 
any  action,  nor  is  there  any  voluntary  action  per- 
formed, without  some  desire  accompanying  it;  which, 
I  think,  is  the  reason  why  the  will  and  desire  are  so 
often  confounded.  But  yet  we  are  not  to  look  upon 
the  uneasiness  which  makes  up,  or  at  least  accom- 
panies, most  of  the  other  passions,  as  wholly  excluded 
in  the  case.  Aversion,  fear,  anger,  envy,  shame,  &c., 
have  each  their  uneasiness  too,  and  thereby  influence 
the  will.  These  passions  are  scarce  any  of  them  in  life 


156     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

and  practice  simple  and  alone,  and  wholly  unmixed 
with  others;  though  usually,  in  discourse  and  contem- 
plation, that  carries  the  name  which  operates  strongest 
and  appears  most  in  the  present  state  of  the  mind. 
Nay,  there  is,  I  think,  scarce  any  of  the  passions  to  be 
found  without  desire  joined  with  it.  I  am  sure,  wher- 
ever there  is  uneasiness,  there  is  desire:  for  we  con- 
stantly desire  happiness ;  and  whatever  we  feel  of  un- 
easiness, so  much,  it  is  certain,  we  want  of  happiness, 
even  in  our  own  opinion,  let  our  state  and  condition 
otherwise  be  whaf  it  will.  Besides,  the  present  mo- 
ment not  being  our  eternity,  whatever  our  enjoyment 
be,  we  look  beyond  the  present,  and  desire  goes  with 
our  foresight,  and  that  still  carries  the  will  with  it. 
So  that  even  in  joy  itself,  that  which  keeps  up  the 
action  whereon  the  enjoyment  depends,  is  the  desire 
to  continue  it,  and  fear  to  lose  it;  and  whenever  a 
greater  uneasiness  than  that  takes  place  in  the  mind, 
the  will  presently  is  by  that  determined  to  some  new 
action,  and  the  present  delight  neglected. 

40.  The  most  pressing  uneasiness  naturally  deter- 
mines the  will. —  But  we  being  in  this  world  beset 
with  sundry  uneasinesses,  distracted  with  different  de- 
sires, the  next  inquiry  naturally  will  be,  which  of 
them  has  the  precedency  in  determining  the  will  to 
the  next  action?  And  to  that  the  answer  is,  That, 
ordinarily,  which  is  the  most  pressing  of  those  that 
are  judged  capable  of  being  then  removed.  For  the 
will  being  the  power  of  directing  our  operative  facul- 
ties to  some  action  for  some  end,  cannot  at  any  time 
be  moved  towards  what  is  judged  at  that  time  un- 
attainable: that  would  be  to  suppose  an  intelligent 
being  designedly  to  act  for  an  end,  only  to  lose  its 
labour;  for  so  it  is  to  act  for  what  is  judged  not  attain- 


OF  POWER.  157 

able:  and  therefore  very  great  uneasinesses  move  not 
the  will  when  they  are  judged  not  capable  of  a  cure: 
they,  in  that  case,  put  us  not  upon  endeavours.  But 
these  set  apart,  the  most  important  and  urgent  uneasi- 
ness we  at  that  time  feel,  is  that  which  ordinarily  de- 
termines the  will  successively  in  that  train  of  volun- 
tary actions  which  make  up  our  lives.  The  greatest 
present  uneasiness  is  the  spur  to  action  that  is  con- 
stantly most  felt,  and  for  the  most  part  determines  the 
will  in  its  choice  of  the  next  action.  For  this  we  must 
carry  along  with  us,  that  the  proper  and  only  object 
of  the  will  is  some  action  of  ours,  and  nothing  else: 
for  we  producing  nothing  by  our  willing  it,  but  some 
action  in  our  power,  it  is  there  the  will  terminates, 
and  reaches  no  farther. 

41.  All  desire  happiness. —  If  it  be  farther  asked, 
what  it  is  moves  desire?     I  answer,  Happiness,  and 
that    alone.     "  Happiness "    and    "  misery "    are    the 
names  of  two  extremes,  the  utmost  bounds  whereof 
we  know  not :  it  is  what  "  eye  hath  not  seen,  ear  hath 
not  heard,  nor  hath  it  entered  into  the  heart  of  man 
to  conceive."     But  of  some  degrees  of  both  we  have 
very  lively  impressions,  made  by  several  instances  of 
delight  and  joy  on  the  one  side,  and  torment  and  sor- 
row on  the  other;  which,  for  shortness'  sake,  I  shall 
comprehend    under    the    names    of    "  pleasure "    and 
"  pain,"  there  being  pleasure  and  pain  of  the  mind  as 
well  as  the  body :  "  With  him  is  fulness  of  joy,  and 
pleasure  for  evermore :  "  or,  to  speak  truly,  they  are  all 
of  the  mind ;  though  some  have  their  rise  in  the  mind 
from  thought,  others  in  the  body  from  certain  modi- 
fications of  motion. 

42.  Happiness,  what. —  Happiness,  then,  in  its  full 
extent,  is  the  utmost  pleasure  we  are  capable  of,  and 


158     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

misery  the  utmost  pain ;  and  the  lowest  degree  of  what 
can  be  called  "  happiness  "  is  so  much  ease  from  all 
pain,  and  so  much  present  pleasure,  as  without  which 
any  one  cannot  be  content.  Now,  because  pleasure  and 
pain  are  produced  in  us  by  the  operation  of  certain 
objects  either  on  our  minds  or  our  bodies,  and  in  dif- 
ferent degrees,  therefore  what  has  an  aptness  to  pro- 
duce pleasure  in  us  is  that  we  call  "  good,"  and  what 
is  apt  to  produce  pain  in  us  we  call  "  evil ;"  for  no 
other  reason  but  for  its  aptness  to  produce  pleasure 
and  pain  in  us,  wherein  consists  our  happiness  and 
misery.  Farther  though  what  is  apt  to  produce  any 
degree  of  pleasure  be  in  itself  good,  and  what  is  apt 
to  produce  any  degree  of  pain  be  evil,  yet  it  often  hap- 
pens that  we  do  not  call  it  so  when  it  comes  in  com- 
petition with  a  greater  of  its  sort;  because  when  they 
come  in  competition,  the  degrees  also  of  pleasure  and 
pain  have  justly  a  preference.  So  that  if  we  will 
rightly  estimate  what  we  call  "  good  "  and  "  evil,"  we 
shall  find  it  lies  much  in  comparison ;  for  the  cause 
of  every  less  degree  of  pain,  as  well  as  every  greater 
degree  of  pleasure,  has  the  nature  of  good  and  vice 
versa. 

43.  What  good  is  desired,  what  not. —  Though  this 
be  that  which  is  called  "  good  "  and  "  evil,"  and  all 
good  be  the  proper  object  of  desire  in  general,  yet  all 
good,  even  seen  and  confessed  to  be  so,  does  not 
necessarily  move  every  particular  man's  desire;  but 
only  that  part,  or  so  much  of  it,  as  is  considered  and 
taken  to  make  a  necessary  part  of  his  happiness.  All 
other  good,  however  great  in  reality  or  appearance, 
excites  not  a  man's  desires,  who  looks  not  on  it  to 
make  a  part  of  that  happiness  wherewith  he,  in  his 
present  thoughts,  can  satisfy  himself.  Happiness, 


OF  POWER.  159 

under  this  view,  every  one  constantly  pursues,  and  de- 
sires what  makes  any  part  of  it :  other  things  acknowl- 
edged to  be  good  he  can  look  upon  without  desire; 
pass  by,  and  be  content  without.  There  is  nobody,  I 
think,  so  senseless  as  to  deny  that  there  is  pleasure 
in  knowledge ;  and  for  the  pleasures  of  sense,  they  have 
too  many  followers  to  let  it  be  questioned  whether 
men  are  taken  with  them  or  no.  Now,  let  one  man 
place  his  satisfaction  in  sensual  pleasures,  another  in 
the  delight  of  knowledge:  though  each  of  them  can- 
not but  confess  there  is  great  pleasure  in  what  the 
other  pursues,  yet  neither  of  them  making  the  other's 
delight  a  part  of  his  happiness,  their  desires  are  not 
moved,  but  each  is  satisfied  without  what  the  other 
enjoys ;  and  so  his  will  is  not  determined  to  the  pursuit 
of  it.  But  yet,  as  soon  as  the  studious  man's  hunger 
and  thirst  make  him  uneasy,  he  whose  will  was  never 
determined  to  any  pursuit  of  good  cheer,  poignant 
sauces,  delicious  wine,  by  the  pleasant  taste  he  has 
found  in  them,  is,  by  the  uneasiness  of  hunger  and 
thirst,  presently  determined  to  eating  and  drinking, 
though  possibly  with  great  indifferency,  what  whole- 
some food  comes  in  his  way.  And  on  the  other  side, 
the  epicure  buckles  to  study  when  shame,  or  the  desire 
to  recommend  himself  to  his  mistress,  shall  make  him 
uneasy  in  the  want  of  any  sort  of  knowledge.  Thus 
how  much  soever  men  are  in  earnest  and  constant  in 
pursuit  of  happiness,  yet  they  may  have  a  clear  view 
of  good,  great  and  confessed  good,  without  being  con- 
cerned for  it,  or  moved  by  it,  if  they  think  they  can 
make  up  their  happiness  without  it.  Though  as  to 
pain,  that  they  are  always  concerned  for ;  they  can  feel 
no  uneasiness  without  being  moved.  And  therefore, 
being  uneasy  in  the  want  of  whatever  is  judged  neces- 


160     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

sary  to  their  happiness,  as  soon  as  any  good  appears 
to  make  a  part  of  their  portion  of  happiness,  they 
begin  to  desire  it. 

44.  Why  the  greatest  good  is  not  always  desired. 
—  This,  I  think,  any  one  may  observe  in  himself  and 
others,  that  the  greater  visible  good  does  not  always 
raise  men's  desires  in  proportion  to  the  greatness  it 
appears  and  is  acknowledged  to  have;  though  every 
little  trouble  moves  us,  and  sets  us  on  work  to  get  rid 
of  it :  the  reason  whereof  is  evident  from  the  nature  of 
our  happiness  and  misery  itself.  All  present  pain, 
whatever  it  be,  makes  a  part  of  our  present  misery; 
but  all  absent  good  does  not  at  any  time  make  a  neces- 
sary part  of  our  present  happiness,  nor  the  absence  of 
it  make  a  part  of  our  misery:  if  it  did,  we  should  be 
constantly  and  infinitely  miserable ;  there  being  infinite 
degrees  of  happiness  which  are  not  in  our  possession. 
All  uneasiness  therefore  being  removed,  a  moderate 
portion  of  good  serves  at  present  to  content  men ;  and 
a  few  degrees  of  pleasure  in  a  succession  of  ordi- 
nary enjoyments  make  up  a  happiness  wherein  they 
can  be  satisfied.  If  this  were  not  so,  there  could  be 
no  room  for  those  indifferent  and  visibly  trifling 
actions  to  which  our  wills  are  so  often  determined, 
and  wherein  we  voluntarily  waste  so  much  of  our 
lives ;  which  remissness  could  by  no  means  consist 
with  a  constant  determination  of  will  or  desire  to  the 
greatest  apparent  good.  That  this  is  so,  I  think  few 
people  need  go  far  from  home  to  be  convinced.  And, 
indeed,  in  this  life  there  are  not  many  whose  happiness 
reaches  so  far  as  to  afford  them  a  constant  train  of 
moderate,  mean  pleasures,  without  any  mixture  of  un- 
easiness; and  yet  they  could  be  content  to  stay  here 
for  ever;  though  they  cannot  deny  but  that  it  is  pos- 


OF  POWER.  161 

sible  there  may  be  a  state  of  eternal,  durable  joys  after 
this  life,  far  surpassing  all  the  good  that  is  to  be  found 
here.  Nay,  they  cannot  but  see  that  it  is  more  possible 
than  the  attainment  and  continuation  of  that  pittance 
of  honour,  riches,  or  pleasure  which  they  pursue,  and 
for  which  they  neglect  that  eternal  state;  but  yet,  in 
full  view  of  this  difference,  satisfied  of  the  possibility 
of  a  perfect,  secure,  and  lasting  happiness  in  a  future 
state,  and  under  a  clear  conviction  that  it  is  not  to  be 
had  here  whilst  they  bound  their  happiness  within 
some  little  enjoyment  or  aim  of  this  life,  and  exclude 
the  joys  of  heaven  from  making  any  necessary  part 
of  it,  their  desires  are  not  moved  by  this  greater  ap- 
parent good,  nor  their  wills  determined  to  any  action 
or  endeavour  for  its  attainment. 

45.  Why,  not  being  desired,  it  moves  not  the  will. 
—  The  ordinary  necessities  of  our  lives  fill  a  great 
part  of  them  with  the  uneasinesses  of  hunger,  thirst, 
heat,  cold,  weariness  with  labour,  and  sleepiness,  in 
their  constant  returns,  &c.,  to  which  if,  besides  acci- 
dental harms,  we  add  the  fantastical  uneasiness  (as 
itch  after  honour,  power,  or  riches,  &c.)  which  ac- 
quired habits  by  fashion,  example,  and  education  have 
settled  in  us,  and  a  thousand  other  irregular  desires 
which  custom  has  made  natural  to  us,  we  shall  find 
that  a  very  little  part  of  our  life  is  so  vacant  from 
these  uneasinesses  as  to  leave  us  free  to  the  attraction 
of  remoter  absent  good.  We  are  seldom  at  ease,  and 
free  enough  from  the  solicitation  of  our  natural  or 
adopted  desires,  but  a  constant  succession  of  uneasi- 
nesses, out  of  that  stock  which  natural  wants  or  ac- 
quired habits  have  heaped  up,  take  the  will  in  their 
turns;  and  no  sooner  is  one  action  despatched,  which 
by  such  a  determination  of  the  will  we  are  set  upon,  but 


162     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

another  uneasiness  is  ready  to  set  us  on  work.  For 
the  removing  of  the  pains  we  feel,  and  are  at  present 
pressed  with,  being  the  getting  out  of  misery,  and 
consequently  the  first  thing  to  be  done  in  order  to  hap- 
piness, absent  good,  though  thought  on,  confessed,  and 
appearing  to  be  good,  not  making  any  part  of  this 
unhappiness,  in  its  absence  is  justled  out,  to  make  way 
for  the  removal  of  those  uneasinesses  we  feel,  till  due 
and  repeated  contemplation  has  brought  it  nearer  to 
our  mind,  given  some  relish  of  it,  and  raised  in  us 
some  desire;  which,  then  beginning  to  make  a  part  of 
our  present  uneasiness,  stands  upon  fair  terms  with 
the  rest  to  be  satisfied,  and  so,  according  to  its  great- 
ness and  pressure,  comes  in  its  turn  to  determine  the 
will. 

46.  Due  consideration  raises  desire. —  And  thus, 
by  a  due  consideration,  and  examining  any  good  pro- 
posed, it  is  in  our  power  to  raise  our  desires  in  a  due 
proportion  to  the  value  of  that  good  whereby,  in  its 
turn  and  place,  it  may  come  to  work  upon  the  will, 
and  be  pursued.  For  good,  though  appearing  and 
allowed  ever  so  great,  yet  till  it  has  raised  desires  in 
our  minds,  and  thereby  made  us  uneasy  in  its  want,  it 
reaches  not  our  wills,  we  are  not  within  the  sphere  of 
its  activity ;  our  wills  being  under  the  determination 
only  of  those  uneasinesses  which  are  present  to  us, 
which  (whilst  we  have  any)  are  always  soliciting,  and 
ready  at  hand  to  give  the  will  its-  next  determination ; 
the  balancing,  when  there  is  any  in  the  mind,  being 
only,  which  desire  shall  be  next  satisfied,  which  un- 
easiness first  removed.  Whereby  it  comes  to  pass, 
that  as  long  as  any  uneasiness,  any  desire,  remains  in 
our  mind,  there  is  no  room  for  good,  barely  as  such. 
to  come  at  the  will,  or  at  all  to  determine  it.  Because, 


OF  POWER.  163 

as  has  been  said,  the  first  step  in  our  endeavours  after 
happiness  being  to  get  wholly  out  of  the  confines  of 
misery  and  to  feel  no  part  of  it,  the  will  can  be  at 
leisure  for  nothing  else  till  every  uneasiness  we  feel 
be  perfectly  removed;  which,  in  the  multitude  of 
wants  and  desires  we  are  beset  with  in  this  imperfect 
state,  we  are  not  like  to  be  ever  freed  from  in  this 
world. 

47.  The  power  to  suspend  the  prosecution  of  any 
desire,  makes  way  for  consideration. —  There  being  in 
us  a  great  many  uneasinesses  always  soliciting,  and 
ready  to  determine,  the  will,  it  is  natural,  as  I  have 
said,  that  the  greatest  and  most  pressing  should  deter- 
mine the  will  to  the  next  action ;  and  so  it  does  for  the 
most  part,  but  not  always.  For  the  mind  having  in 
most  cases,  as  is  evident  in  experience,  a  power  to 
suspend  the  execution  and  satisfaction  of  any  of  its 
desires,  and  so  all,  one  after  another  is  at  liberty  to 
consider  the  objects  of  them,  examine  them  on  all 
sides,  and  weigh  them  with  others.  In  this  lies  the 
liberty  man  has ;  and  from  the  not  using  of  it  right, 
comes  all  that  variety  of  mistakes,  errors,  and  faults 
which  we  run  into  in  the  conduct  of  our  lives,  and  our 
endeavours  after  happiness ;  whilst  we  precipitate  the 
determination  of  our  wills,  and  engage  too  soon  before 
due  examination.  To  prevent  this,  we  have  a  power 
to  suspend  the  prosecution  of  this  or  that  desire,  as 
every  one  daily  may  experiment  in  himself.  This 
seems  to  me  the  source  of  all  liberty ;  in  this  seems  to 
consist  that  which  is  (as  I  think  improperly  called 
"  free-will."  For  during  this  suspension  of  any  de- 
sire, before  the  will  be  determined  to  action,  and  the 
action  (which  follows  that  determination)  done,  we 
have  opportunity  to  examine,  view,  and  judge  of  the 


164     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

good  or  evil  of  what  we  are  going  to  do;  and  when 
upon  due  examination  we  have  judged,  we  have  done 
our  duty,  all  that  we  can  or  ought  to  do  in  pursuit  of 
our  happiness ;  and  it  is  not  a  fault  but  a  perfection  of 
our  nature  to  desire,  will  and  act,  according  to  the  last 
result  of  a  fair  examination. 

48.  To  be  determined  by  our  OK.II  judgment,  is  no 
restraint  to  liberty. —  This  is  so  far  from  being  a  re- 
straint or  diminution  of  freedom,  that  it  is  the  very 
improvement  and  benefit  of  it ;  it  is  not  an  abridgment, 
it  is  the  end  and  use,  of  our  liberty;  and  the  farther 
we  are  removed  from  such  a  determination,  the  nearer 
we  are  to  misery  and  slavery.  A  perfect  indifferency 
in  the  mind,  not  determinable  by  its  last  judgment  of 
the  good  or  evil  that  is  thought  to  attend  its  choice, 
would  be  so  far  from  being  an  advantage  and  excel- 
lency of  an  intellectual  nature,  that  it  would  be  as 
great  an  imperfection,  as  the  want  of  indifferency  to 
act  or  not  to  act  till  determined  by  the  will,  would  be 
an  imperfection  on  the  other  side.  A  man  is  at  liberty 
to  lift  up  his  hand  to  his  head,  or  let  it  rest  quiet :  he 
is  perfectly  indifferent  in  either;  and  it  would  be  an 
imperfection  in  him  if  he  wanted  that  power,  if  he 
were  deprived  of  that  indifferency.  But  it  would  be 
as  great  an  imperfection,  if  he  had  the  same  indiffer- 
ency, whether  he  would  prefer  the  lifting  up  his  hand, 
or  its  remaining  in  rest,  when  it  would  save  his  head 
or  eyes  from  a  blow  he  sees  coming:  it  is  as  much  a 
perfection  that  desire,  or  the  power  of  preferring, 
should  be  determined  by  good,  as  that  the  power  of 
acting  should  be  determined  by  the  will;  and  the  cer- 
tainer  such  determination  is,  the  greater  is  the  per- 
fection. Nay,  were  we  determined  by*  any  thing  but 
the  last  result  of  our  own  minds  judging  of  the  good 


OF  POWER.  165 

or  evil  of  any  action,  we  were  not  free ;  [the  very  end 
of  our  freedom  being,  that  we  may  attain  the  good  we 
choose.  And  therefore  every  man  is  put  under  a 
necessity  by  his  constitution,  as  an  intelligent  being, 
to  be  determined  in  willing,  by  his  own  thought  and 
judgment,  what  is  best  for  him  to  do:  else  he  would 
be  under  the  determination  of  some  other  than  him- 
self, which  is  want  of  liberty.  And  to  deny  that  a 
man's  will,  in  every  determination,  follows  his  own 
judgment,  is  to  say,  that  a  man  wills  and  acts  for  an 
end  that  he  would  not  have,  at  the  time  that  he  wills 
and  acts  for  it.  For  if  he  prefers  it  in  his  present 
thoughts  before  any  other,  it  is  plain  he  then  thinks 
better  of  it,  and  would  have  it  before  any  other,  unless 
he  can  have  and  not  have  it,  will  and  not  will  it,  at  the 
same  time;  a  contradiction  too  manifest  to  be  admit- 
ted.] 

49.  The  freest  agents  are  so  determined. —  If  we 
look  upon  those  superior  beings  above  us  who  enjoy 
perfect  happiness,  we  shall  have  reason  to  judge,  that 
they  are  more  steadily  determined  in  their  choice  of 
good  than  we;  and  yet  we  have  no  reason  to  think 
they  are  less  happy  or  less  free  than  we  are.    And  if 
it  were  fit  for  such  poor  finite  creatures  as  we  are  to 
pronounce  what  infinite  wisdom  and  goodness  could 
do,  I  think  we  might  say  that  God  himself  cannot 
choose  what  is  not  good ;  the  freedom  of  the  Almighty 
hinders  not  his  being  determined  by  what  is  best. 

50.  A  constant  determination  to  a  pursuit  of  hap- 
piness, no  abridgment  of  liberty. —  But,  to  give  a  right 
view  of  this  mistaken   part   of  liberty,   let   me  ask, 
Would  any  one  be  a  changeling  because  he  is  less  de- 
termined by  wise  considerations  than  a  wise  man?    Is 
it  worth  the  name  of  freedom  to  be  at  liberty  to  play 


:66     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

the  fool,  and  draw  shame  and  misery  upon  a  man's 
self?  If  to  break  loose  from  the  conduct  of  reason, 
and  to  want  that  restraint  of  examination  and  judg- 
ment which  keeps  us  from  choosing  or  doing  the 
worse,  be  liberty,  true  liberty,  madmen  and  fools  are 
the  only  freemen:  but  yet,  I  think,  nobody  would 
choose  to  be  mad  for  the  sake  of  such  liberty,  but  he 
that  is  mad  already.  The  constant  desire  of  happiness, 
and  the  constraint  it  puts  upon  us  to  act  for  it,  no- 
body, I  think,  accounts  an  abridgment  of  liberty,  or  at 
least  an  abridgment  of  liberty  to  be  complained  of. 
God  Almighty  himself  is  under  the  necessity  of  being 
happy;  and  the  more  any  intelligent  being  is  so,  the 
nearer  is  its  approach  to  infinite  perfection  and  happi- 
ness. That  in  this  state  of  ignorance  we  short-sighted 
creatures  might  not  mistake  true  felicity,  we  are  en- 
dowed with  a  power  to  suspend  any  particular  desire, 
and  keep  it  from  determining  the  will,  and  engaging 
us  in  action.  This  is  standing  still,  where  we  are  not 
sufficiently  assured  of  the  way:  examination  is  con- 
sulting a  guide.  The  determination  of  the  will  upon 
inquiry,  is  following  the  direction  of  that  guide;  and 
he  that  has  a  power  to  act,  or  not  to  act,  according  as 
such  determination  directs,  is  a  free  agent;  such  de- 
termination abridges  not  that  power  wherein  liberty 
consists.  He  that  has  his  chains  knocked  off,  and  the 
prison  doors  set  open  to  him,  is  perfectly  at  liberty, 
because  he  may  either  go  or  stay,  as  he  best  likes; 
though  his  preference  be  determined  to  stay,  by  the 
darkness  of  the  night,  or  illness  of  the  weather,  or 
want  of  other  lodging.  He  ceases  not  to  be  free; 
though  the  desire  of  some  convenience,  to  be  had 
there,  absolutely,  determines  his  preference,  and  makes 
him  stay  in  his  prison. 


OF  POWER.  167 

51.  The  necessity  of  pursuing  true  happiness,  the 
foundation  of  all  liberty. —  As  therefore  the  highest 
perfection  of  intellectual  nature  lies  in  a  careful  and 
constant  pursuit  of  true  and  solid  happiness,  so  the 
care  of  ourselves,  that  we  mistake  not  imaginary  for 
real   happiness,    is   the  necessary    foundation   of   our 
liberty.     The  stronger  ties  we  have  to  an  unalterable 
pursuit  of  happiness  in  general,  which  is  our  greatest 
good,  and  which,  as  such,  our  desires  always  follow, 
the  more  are  we  free  from  any  necessary  determina- 
tion of  our  will,  to  any  particular  action,  and  from  a 
necessary  compliance  with  our  desire  set  upon  any 
particular  and  then  appearing  preferable  good,  till  we 
have  duly  examined  whether  it  has  a  tendency  to  or 
be  inconsistent  with  our  real  happiness :  and  therefore 
till  we  are  as  much  informed  upon  this  inquiry  as  the 
weight  of  the  matter  and  the  nature  of  the  case  de- 
mands, we  are,  by  the  necessity  of  preferring  and  pur- 
suing true  happiness  as  our  greatest  good,  obliged  to 
suspend  the  satisfaction  of  our  desires  in  particular 
cases. 

52.  The  reason  of  it. —  This  is  the  hinge  on  which 
turns  the  liberty  of  intellectual  beings  in  their  constant 
endeavours   after   and  a  steady   prosecution   of   true 
felicity,  that  they  can  suspend  this  prosecution  in  par- 
ticular cases  till  they  have  looked  before  them,  and 
informed    themselves    whether   that    particular    thing 
which  is  then  proposed  or  desired  lie  in  the  way  to 
their  main  end,  and  make  a  real  part  of  that  which  is 
their  greatest  good;  for  the  inclination  and  tendency 
of  their  nature  to  happiness  is  an  obligation  and  mo- 
tive to  them,  to  take  care  not  to  mistake  or  miss  it; 
and  so  necessarily  puts  them  upon  caution,  delibera- 
tion, and  wariness  in  the  direction  of  their  particular 


168     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

actions,  which  are  the  means  to  obtain  it.  Whatever 
necessity  determines  to  the  pursuit  of  real  bliss,  the 
same  necessity  with  the  same  force,  establishes  sus- 
pense, deliberation,  and  scrutiny  of  each  successive 
desire,  whether  the  satisfaction  of  it  does  not  interfere 
with  our  true  happiness,  and  mislead  us  from  it.  This, 
as  seems  to  me,  is  the  great  privilege  of  finite  in- 
tellectual beings;  and  I  desire  it  may  be  well  consid- 
ered, whether  the  great  inlet  and  exercise  of  all  the 
liberty  men  have,  are  capable  of,  or  can  be  useful  to 
them,  and  that  whereon  depends  the  turn  of  their 
actions,  does  not  lie  in  this,  that  they  can  suspend  their 
desires,  and  stop  them  from  determining  their  wills 
to  any  action,  till  they  have  duly  and  fairly  examined 
the  good  and  evil  of  it,  as  far  forth  as  the  weight  of 
the  thing  requires.  This  we  are  able  to  do ;  and  when 
we  have  done  it,  we  have  done  our  duty,  and  all  that 
is  in  our  power,  and  indeed  all  that  needs.  For,  since 
the  will  supposes  knowledge  to  guide  its  choice,  all 
that  we  can  do  is  to  hold  our  wills  undetermined  till 
we  have  examined  the  good  and  evil  of  what  we  desire. 
What  follows  after  that,  follows  in  a  chain  of  conse- 
quences linked  one  to  another,  all  depending  on  the 
last  determination  of  the  judgment;  which,  whether  it 
shall  be  upon  an  hasty  and  precipitate  view,  or  upon  a 
due  and  mature  examination,  is  in  our  power ;  experi- 
ence showing  us,  that  in  most  cases  we  are  able  to 
suspend  the  present  satisfaction  of  any  desire. 

53.  Government  of  our  passions,  the  right  im- 
provement of  liberty. —  But  if  any  extreme  disturbance 
(as  sometimes  it  happens)  possesses  our  whole  mind, 
as  when  the  pain  of  the  rack,  an  impetuous  uneasiness, 
as  of  love,  anger,  or  any  other  violent  passion,  running 
away  with  us,  allows  us  not  the  liberty  of  thought,  and 


OF  POWER.  169 

we  are  not  masters  enough  of  our  own  minds  to  con- 
sider thoroughly  and  examine  fairly ;  God,  who  knows 
our  frailty,  pities  our  weakness,  and  requires  of  us  no 
more  than  we  are  able  to  do,  and  sees  what  was  and 
what  was  not  in  our  power,  will  judge  as  a  kind  and 
merciful  Father.  But  the  forbearance  of  a  too  hasty 
compliance  with  our  desires,  the  moderation  and  re- 
straint of  our  passions,  so  that  our  understandings 

may  be  free  to  examine,  and  reason  unbiassed  give  its 
judgment,  being  that  whereon  a  right  direction  of  our 
conduct  to  true  happiness  depends;  it  is  in  this  we 
should  employ  our  chief  care  and  endeavours.  In  this 
we  should  take  pains  to  suit  the  relish  of  our  minds  to 
the  true  intrinsic  good  or  ill  that  is  in  things,  and  not 
permit  an  allowed  or  supposed  possible  great  and 
weighty  good  to  slip  out  of  our  thoughts  without  leav- 
ing any  relish,  any  desire  of  itself  there,  till,  by  a  due 
consideration  of  its  true  worth,  we  have  formed  ap- 
petites in  our  minds  suitable  to  it,  and  made  ourselves 
uneasy  in  the  want  of  it,  or  in  the  fear  of  losing  it. 
And  how  much  this  is  in  every  one's  power,  by  making 
resolutions  to  himself  such  as  he  may  keep,  is  easy  for 
every  one  to  try.  Nor  let  any  one  say,  he  cannot 
govern  his  passions,  nor  hinder  them  from  breaking 
out,  and  carrying  him  into  action ;  for  what  he  can  do 
before  a  prince,  or  a  great  man,  he  can  do  alone,  or  in 
the  presence  of  God,  if  he  will. 

54.    How  men  come  to  pursue  different  courses. — 

From  what  has  been  said,  it  is  easy  to  give  an  account 
how  it  comes  to  pass,  that  though  all  men  desire  hap- 
piness, yet  their  wills  carry  them  so  contrarily,  and 
consequently  some  of  them  to  what  is  evil.  And  to 
this  I  say,  that  the  various  and  contrary  choices  that 
xmen  make  in  the  world  do  not  argue  that  they  do  not 


i;o     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

all  pursue  good,  but  that  the  same  thing  is  not  good 
to  every  man  alike.  This  variety  of  pursuits  shows 
that  every  one  does  not  place  his  happiness  in  the  same 
thing,  or  choose  the  same  way  to  it.  Were  all  the 
concerns  of  man  terminated  in  this  life,  why  one  fol- 
lowed study  and  knowledge,  and  another  hawking  and 
hunting;  why  one  chose  luxury  and  debauchery,  and 
another  sobriety  and  riches;  would  not  be  because 
every  one  of  these  did  not  aim  at  his  own  happiness, 
but  because  their  happiness  was  placed  in  different 
things.  And  therefore  it  was  a  right  answer  of  the 
physician  to  his  patient  that  had  sore  eyes :  "  If  you 
have  more  pleasure  in  the  taste  of  wine  than  in  the 
use  of  your  sight,  wine  is  good  for  you ;  but  if  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  be  greater  to  you  than  that  of  drink- 
ing, wine  is  naught." 

55.  The  mind  has  a  different  relish,  as  well  as  the 
palate ;  and  you  will  as  fruitlessly  endeavour  to  delight 
all  men  with  riches  or  glory  (which  yet  some  men 
place  their  happiness  in),  as  you  would  to  satisfy  all 
men's  hunger  with  cheese  or  lobsters;  which,  though 
very  agreeable  and  delicious  fare  to  some,  are  to  others 
extremely  nauseous  and  offensive:  and  many  persons 
would  with  reason  prefer  the  griping  of  an  hungry 
belly  to  those  dishes  which  are  a  feast  to  others. 
Hence  it  was,  I  think,  that  the  philosophers  of  old 
did  in  vain  inquire,  whether  summum  bonnm  consisted 
in  riches,  or  bodily  delights,  or  virtue,  or  contempla- 
tion? And  they  might  have  as  reasonably  disputed, 
whether  the  best  relish  were  to  be  found  in  apples, 
plums,  or  nuts ;  and  have  divided  themselves  into  sects 
upon  it.  For  as  pleasant  tastes  depend  not  on  the  things 
themselves,  but  their  agreeableness  to  this  or  that  par- 
ticular palate,  wherein  there  is  great  variety;  so  the 


OF  POWER.    ^  171 

greatest  happiness  consists  in  the  having  those  things 
which  produce  the  greatest  pleasure  and  in  the  absence 
of  those  which  cause  any  disturbance,  any  pain.  Now, 
these  to  different  men  are  very  different  things.  If 
therefore  men  in  this  life  only  have  hope,  if  in  this 
life  only  they  can  enjoy,  it  is  not  strange  nor  unreason- 
able that  they  should  seek  their  happiness  by  avoiding 
all  things  that  disease  them  here,  and  by  pursuing  all 
that  delight  them ;  wherein  it  will  be  no  wonder  to 
find  variety  and  difference.  For  if  there  be  no  pros- 
pect beyond  the  grave,  the  inference  is  certainly  right, 
"  Let  us  eat  and  drink,"  let  us  enjoy  what  we  delight 
in,  "  for  to-morrow  we  shall  die."  This,  I  think,  may 
serve  to  show  us  the  reason,  why,  though  all  men's 
desires  tend  to  happiness,  yet  they  are  not  moved  by 
the  same  object.  Men  may  choose  different  things, 
and  yet  all  choose  right,  supposing  them  only  like  a 
company  of  poor  insects,  whereof  some  are  bees,  de- 
lighted with  flowers  and  their  sweetness ;  others  beetles, 
delighted  with  other  kinds  of  viands ;  which  having  en- 
joyed for  a  season,  they  would  cease  to  be,  and  exist 
no  more  for  ever. 

56.  How  men  come  to  choose  ill. —  [These  things, 
duly  weighed,  will  give  us,  as  I  think,  a  clear  view 
into  the  state  of  human  liberty.  Liberty,  it  is  plain, 
consists  in  a  power  to  do  or  not  to  do,  to  do  or  for- 
bear doing,  as  we  will.  This  cannot  be  denied.  But 
this  seeming  to  comprehend  only  the  actions  of  a  man 
consecutive  to  volition,  it  is  farther  inquired,  whether 
he  be  at  liberty  to  will  or  no?  And  to  this  it  has  been 
answered,  that  in  most  cases  a  man  is  not  at  liberty 
to  forbear  the  act  of  volition ;  he  must  exert  an  act 
of  his  will,  whereby  the  action  proposed  is  made  to 
exist,  or  not  to  exist.  But  yet  there  is  a  case  wherein 


172     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

a  man  is  at  liberty  in  respect  of  willing;  and  that  is 
the  choosing  of  a  remote  good  as  an  end  to  be  pur- 
sued. Here  a  man  may  suspend  the  act  of  his  choice 
from  being  determined  for  or  against  the  thing  pro- 
posed, till  he  has  examined  whether  it  be  really  of  a 
nature  in  itself  and  consequences  to  make  him  happy 
or  not.  For  when  he  has  once  chosen  it,  and  thereby 
it  has  become  a  part  of  his  happiness,  it  raises  desire; 
and  that  proportionably  gives  him  uneasiness,  which 
determines  his  will,  and  sets  him  at  work  in  pursuit  of 
his  choice  on  all  occasions  that  offer.  And  here  we 
may  see  how  it  comes  to  pass,  that  a  man  may  justly 
incur  punishment,  though  it  be  certain  that  in  all  the 
particular  actions  that  he  wills,  he  does,  and  neces- 
sarily does,  will  that  which  he  then  judges  to  be  good. 
For  though  his  will  be  always  determined  by  that 
which  is  judged  good  by  his  understanding,  yet  it 
excuses  him  not :  because  by  a  too  hasty  choice  of  his 
own  making,  he  has  imposed  on  himself  wrong  meas- 
ures of  good  and  evil ;  which,  however  false  and  fal- 
lacious, have  the  same  influence  on  all  his  future  con- 
duct as  if  they  were  true  and  right.  He  has  vitiated 
his  own  palate,  and  must  be  answerable  to  himself  for 
the  sickness  and  death  that  follows  from  it.  The 
eternal  law  and  nature  of  things  must  not  be  altered 
to  comply  with  his  ill-ordered  choice.  If  the  neglect 
.  or  abuse  of  the  liberty  he  had  to  examine  what  would 
really  and  truly  make  for  his  happiness,  misleads  him, 
the  miscarriages  that  follow  on  it  must  be  imputed  to 
his  own  election.  He  had  a  power  to  suspend  his 
determination :  it  was  given  him,  that  he  might  ex- 
amine and  take  care  of  his  own  happiness,  and  look 
that  he  were  not  deceived.  And  he  could  never  judge 


OF  POWER.  173 

that  it  was  better  to  be  deceived  than  not,  in  a  matter 
of  so  great  and  near  concernment.] 

What  has  been  said  may  also  discover  to  us  the 
reason  why  men  in  this  world  prefer  different  things, 
and  pursue  happiness  by  contrary  course's.  But  yet, 
since  men  are  always  constant  and  in  earnest  in  mat- 
ters of  happiness  and  misery,  the  question  still  re- 
mains, how  men  come  often  to  prefer  the  worse  to  the 
better,  and  to  choose  that  which,  by  their  own  confes- 
sion, has  made  them  miserable? 

57.  To  account  for  the  various  and  contrary  ways 
men  take,  though  all  aim  at  being  happy,  we  must  con- 
sider whence  the  various  uneasinesses  that  determine 
the  will  in  the  preference  of  each  voluntary  action, 
have  their  rise. 

( i.)  From  bodily  pain. —  Some  of  them  come  from 
causes  not  in  our  power,  such  as  are  often  the  pains 
of  the  body  from  want,  disease,  or  outward  injuries, 
as  the  rack,  &c.,  which,  when  present,  and  violent, 
operate  for  the  most  part  forcibly  on  the  will,  and 
turn  the  courses  of  men's  lives  from  virtue,  piety,  and 
religion,  and  what  before  they  judged  to  lead  to  hap- 
piness ;  every  one  not  endeavouring,  or,  [through  dis- 
use,] not  being  able,  by  the  contemplation  of  remote  and 
future  good,  to  raise  in  himself  desires  of  them  strong 
enough  to  counterbalance  the  uneasiness  he  feels  in 
those  bodily  torments,  and  to  keep  his  will  steady  in 
the  choice  of  those  actions  which  lead  to  future  hap- 
piness. A  neighbouring  country  has  been  of  late  a 
tragical  theatre,  from  which  we  might  fetch  instances,  if 
there  needed  any,  and  the  world  did  not  in  all  countries 
and  ages  furnish  examples  enough,  to  confirm  that  re- 
ceived observation,  Necessitas  cogit  ad  turpia;  and 


174     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

therefore  there  is  great  reason  for  us  to  pray,  "  Lead 
us  not  into  temptation." 

(2.)  From  wrong  desires  arising  from  wrong 
judgment. —  Other  uneasinesses  arise  from  our  de- 
sires of  absent  good ;  which  desires  always  bear  pro- 
portion to  and  depend  on  the  judgment  we  make,  and 
the  relish  we  have,  of  any  absent  good ;  in  both  which 
we  are  apt  to  be  variously  misled,  and  that  by  our  own 
fault. 

58.  Our  judgment  of  present  good  or  evil  ahvays 
right. —  In  the  first  place  I  shall  consider  the  wrong 
judgments  men  make  of  future  good  and  evil,  whereby 
their  desires  are  misled.  For  as  to  present  happiness 
and  misery,  when  that  alone  comes  in  consideration, 
and  the  consequences  are  quite  removed,  a  man  never 
chooses  amiss;  he  knows  what  best  pleases  him,  and 
that  he  actually  prefers.  Things  in  their  present  en- 
joyment are  what  they  seem;  the  apparent  and  real 
good  are,  in  this  case,  always  the  same.  For  the  pain 
or  pleasure  being  just  so  great  and  no  greater  than  it 
is  felt,  the  present  good  or  evil  is  really  so  much  as  it 
appears.  And  therefore  were  every  action  of  ours 
concluded  within  itself,  and  drew  no  consequences 
after  it,  we  should  undoubtedly  never  err  in  our  choice 
of  good;  we  should  always  infallibly  prefer  the  best. 
Were  the  pains  of  honest  industry,  and  of  starving 
with  hunger  and  cold  set  together  before  us,  nobody 
would  be  in  doubt  which  to  choose :  were  the  satis- 
faction of  a  lust,  and  the  joys  of  heaven,  offered  at 
once  to  any  one's  present  possession,  he  would  not 
balance  or  err  in  the  determination  of  his  choice. 

59.  But  since  our  voluntary  actions  carry  not  all 
the  happiness  and  misery  that  depend  on  them  along 
with  them  in  their  present  performance,  but  are  the 


OF  POWER.  175 

precedent  causes  of  good  and  evil,  which  they  draw 
after  them,  and  bring  upon  us  when  they  themselves 
are  past  and  cease  to  be;  our  desires  look  beyond  our 
present  enjoyments,  and  carry  the  mind  out  to  absent 
good,  according  to  the  necessity  which  we  think  there 
is  of  it  to  the  making  or  increase  of  our  happiness. 
It  is  our  opinion  of  such  a  necessity  that  gives  it  its 
attraction :  without  that,  we  are  not  moved  by  absent 
good.  For  in  this  narrow  scantling  of  capacity  which 
we  are  accustomed  to  and  sensible  of  here,  wherein  we 
enjoy  but  one  pleasure  at  once,  which,  when  all  un- 
easiness is  away,  is,  whilst  it  lasts,  sufficient  to  make 
us  think  ourselves  happy ;  it  is  not  all  remote  and  even 
apparent  good  that  affects  us.  Because  the  indolency 
and  enjoyment  we  have  sufficing  for  our  present  hap- 
piness, we  desire  not  to  venture  the  change :  since  we 
judge  that  we  are  happy  already,  being  content,  and 
that  is  enough.  For  who  is  content,  is  happy.  But 
as  soon  as  any  new  uneasiness  comes  in,  this  happiness 
is  disturbed,  and  we  are  set  afresh  on  work  in  the  pur- 
suit of  happiness. 

60.  From  a  wrong  judgment  of  what  makes  a 
necessary  part  of  their  happiness. —  Their  aptness 
therefore  to  conclude  that  they  can  be  happy  without 
it,  is  one  great  occasion  that  men  often  are  not  rafsed 
to  the  desire  of  the  greatest  absent  good.  For  whilst 
such  thoughts  possess  them,  the  joys  of  a  future  state 
move  them  not;  they  have  little  concern  or  uneasiness 
about  them ;  and  the  will,  free  from  the  determination 
of  such  desires,  is  left  to  the  pursuit  of  nearer  satis- 
factions, and  to  the  removal  of  those  uneasinesses 
which  it  then  feels  in  its  want  of  and  longings  after 
them.  Change  but  a  man's  view  of  these  things ;  let 
him  see  that  virtue  and  religion  are  necessary  to  his 


176     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

happiness;  let  him  look  into  the  future  state  of  bliss 
or  misery,  and  see  their  God  the  righteous  Judge  ready 
to  "  render  to  every  man  according  to  his  deeds ;  to 
them  who  by  patient  continuance  in  well-doing  seek 
for  glory,  and  honour,  and  immortality,  eternal  life; 
but  unto  every  soul  that  doth  evil,  indignation  and 
wrath,  tribulation  and  anguish;"  to  him,  I  say,  who 
hath  a  prospect  of  the  different  state  of  perfect  hap- 
piness or  misery  that  attends  all  men  after  this  life, 
depending  on  their  behaviour  here,  the  measures  of 
good  and  evil  that  govern  his  choice  are  mightily 
changed.  For,  since  nothing  of  pleasure  and  pain 
in  this  life  can  bear  any  proportion  to  the  endless  happi- 
ness or  exquisite  misery  of  an  immortal  soul  hereafter, 
actions  in  his  power  will  have  their  preference,  not 
according  to  the  transient  pleasure  or  pain  that  accom- 
panies or  follows  them  here,  but  as  they  serve  to 
secure  that  perfect  durable  happiness  hereafter.] 

61.  A  more  particular  account  of  "wrong  judg- 
ments.—  But,  to  account  more  particularly  for  the 
misery  that  men  often  bring  on  themselves,  notwith- 
standing that  they  do  all  in  earnest  pursue  happiness, 
we  must  consider  how  things  come  to  be  represented 
to  our  desires  under  deceitful  appearances;  and  that 
is  by  the  judgment  pronouncing  wrongly  concerning 
them.  To  see  how  far  this  reaches,  and  what  are  the 
causes  of  wrong  judgment,  we  must  remember  that 
things  are  judged  good  or  bad  in  a  double  sense. 

First.  That  which  is  properly  good  or  bad,  is  noth- 
ing but  barely  pleasurable  or  pain. 

Secondly.  But  because  not  only  present  pleasure  and 
pain,  but  that  also  which  is  apt  by  its  efficacy  or  conse- 
quences to  bring  it  upon  us  at  a  distance,  is  a  propei 
object  of  our  desires,  and  apt  to  move  a  creature  that 


OF  POWER.  177 

has  foresight;  therefore,  things  also  that  draw  after 
them  pleasure  and  pain  are  considered  as  good  and 
evil. 

62.  The   wrong  judgment   that   misleads   us,   and 
makes  the  will  often  fasten  on  the  worst  side,  lies  in 
misreporting  upon  the  various  comparisons  of  these. 
The  wrong  judgment  I  am  here  speaking  of,  is  not 
what  one  man  may  think  of  the  determination  of  an- 
other, but  what  every  man  himself  must  confess  to  be 
wrong.     For,  since  I  lay  it  for  a  certain  ground,  that 
every  intelligent  being  really   seeks  happiness,  [which 
consists   in  the  enjoyment  of  pleasure,   without  any 
considerable  mixture  of  uneasiness]  ;  it  is  impossible 
any  one  should  willingly  put  into  his  own  draught  any 
bitter  ingredient,  or  leave  out  any  thing  in  his  power 
[that  would  tend  to  his  satisfaction  and  the  completing 
of  his  happiness] ,  but  only  by  wrong  judgment.    I  shall 
not  here  speak  of  that  mistake  which  is  the  conse-< 
quence  of  invincible  error,  which  scarce  deserves  the 
name  of  wrong  judgment;  but  of  that  wrong  judg- 
ment which  every  man  himself  must  confess  to  be  so. 

63.  In  comparing  present  and  future. —  I.  There- 
fore, as  to  present  pleasure  and  pain,  the  mind,  as 
has  been  said,  never  mistakes  that  which  is  really  good 
or  evil ;   that   which   is   the  greater   pleasure   or  the 
greater  pain  is  really  just  as  it  appears.     But  though 
present  pleasure  and  pain  show  their  difference  and 
degrees  so  plainly  as  not  to  leave  room  for  mistake, 
yet  when  we  compare  present  pleasure  or  pain  with 
future  (which  is  usually  the  case  in  the  most  impor- 
tant determinations  of  the  will),  we  often  make  wrong 
judgments  of  them,  taking  our  measures  of  them  in 
different  positions  of  distance.     Objects  near  our  view 
are  apt  to  be  thought  greater  than  those  of  a  larger  size 


178     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

that  are  more  remote :  and  so  it  is  with  pleasures  and 
pains :  the  present  is  apt  to  carry  it,  and  those  at  a 
distance  have  the  disadvantage  in  the  comparison. 
Thus  most  men,  like  spendthrift  heirs  are  apt  to 
judge  a  little  in  hand  better  than  a  great  deal  to  come; 
and  so,  for  small  matters  in  possession,  part  with  great 
ones  in  reversion.  But  that  this  is  a  wrong  judgment, 
every  one  must  allow,  let  his  pleasure  consist  in  what- 
ever it  will:  since  that  which  is  future  will  certainly 
come  to  be  present;  and  then,  having  the  same  ad- 
vantage of  nearness,  will  show  itself  in  its  full  dimen- 
sions, and  discover  his  wilful  mistake  who  judged  of 
it  by  unequal  measures.  Were  the  pleasure  of  drink- 
ing accompanied,  the  very  moment  a  man  takes  off  his 
glass,  with  that  sick  stomach  and  aching  head  which, 
in  some  men,  are  sure  to  follow  not  many  hours  after, 
I  think  nobody,  whatever  pleasure  he  had  in  his  cups, 
would,  on  these  conditions,  ever  let  wine  touch  his 
lips ;  which  yet  he  daily  swallows,  and  the  evil  side 
comes  to  be  chosen  only  by  the  fallacy  of  a  little  dif- 
ference in  time.  But  if  pleasure  or  pain  can  be  so 
lessened  only  by  a  few  hours'  removal,  how  much  more 
will  it  be  so,  by  a  farther  distance,  to  a  man  that  will 
not  by  a  right  judgment  do  what  time  will,  i.  e.,  bring 
it  home  to  himself,  and  consider  it  as  present,  and 
there  take  its  true  dimensions!  This  is  the  way  we 
usually  impose  on  ourselves,  in  respect  of  bare  pleas- 
ure and  pain,  or  the  true  degrees  of  happiness  or 
misery :  the  future  loses  its  just  proportion,  and  what 
is  present  obtains  the  preference  as  the  greater.  I 
mention  not  here  the  wrong  judgment  whereby  the 
absent  are  not  only  lessened,  but  reduced  to  perfect 
nothing;  when  men  enjoy  what  they  can  in  present, 
and  make  sure  of  that,  concluding  amiss  that  no  evil 


OF  POWER.  179 

will  hence  follow.  For  that  lies  not  in  comparing  the 
greatness  of  future  good  and  evil,  which  is  that  we 
are  here  speaking  of;  but  in  another  sort  of  wrong 
judgment,  which  is  concerning  good  or  evil,  as  it  is 
considered  to  be  the  cause  and  procurement  of  pleas- 
ure or  pain  that  will  follow  from  it. 

64.  Causes  of  this. —  The  cause  of  our  judging 
amiss  when  we  compare  our  present  pleasure  or  pain 
with  future,  seems  to  me  to  be  the  weak  and  narrow 
constitution  of  our  minds.  We  cannot  well  enjoy  two 
pleasures  at  once,  much  less  any  pleasure  almost 
whilst  pain  possesses  us.  The  present  pleasure,  if  it 
be  not  very  languid  and  almost  none  at  all,  fills  our 
narrow  souls,  and  so  takes*  up  the  whole  mind  that  it 
scarce  leaves  any  thought  of  things  absent:  or  if 
among  our  pleasures  there  are  some  which  are  not 
strong  enough  to  exclude  the  consideration  of  things 
at  a  distance,  yet  we  have  so  great  an  abhorrence  of  pain 
that  a  little  of  it  extinguishes  all  our  pleasures :  a  little 
bitter  mingled  in  our  cup  leaves  no  relish  of  the  sweet. 
Hence  it  comes  that,  at  any  rate,  we  desire  to  be  rid 
of  the  present  evil,  which  we  are  apt  to  think  nothing 
absent  can  equal;  because  under  the  present  pain  we 
find  not  ourselves  capable  of  any  the  least  degree  of 
happiness. —  Men's  daily  complaints  are  a  loud  proof 
of  this :  the  pain  that  any  one  actually  feels  is  still  of 
all  other  the  worst ;  and  it  is  with  anguish  they  cry 
out,  "  Any  rather  than  this !  nothing  can  be  so  in- 
tolerable as  what  I  now  suffer !  "  And  therefore  our 
whole  endeavours  and  thoughts  are  intent  to  get  rid 
of  the  present  evil,  before  all  things,  as  the  first  neces- 
sary condition  to  our  happiness,  let  what  will  follow. 
Nothing,  as  we  passionately  think,  can  exceed  or 
almost  equal  the  uneasiness  that  sits  so  heavy  upon  us. 


i8o     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

And  because  the  abstinence  from  a  present  pleasure 
that  offers  itself  is  a  pain,  nay,  oftentimes  a  very  great 
one,  the  desire  being  inflamed  by  a  near  and  tempting 
object;  it  is  no  wonder  that  that  operates  after  the 
same  manner  pain  does,  and  lessens  in  our  thoughts 
what  is  future;  and  so  forces  us,  as  it  were,  blind- 
folded into  its  embraces. 

65.  [Add  to  this  that  absent  good,  or,  which  is 
the  same  thing,  future  pleasure,  especially  if  of  a  sort 
which  we  are  unacquainted  with,  seldom  is  able  to 
counterbalance  any  uneasiness,  either  of  pain  or  de- 
sire, which  is  present.  For  its  greatness  being  no 
more  than  what  shall  be  really  tasted  when  enjoyed, 
men  are  apt  enough  to  lessen  that,  to  make  it  give 
place  to  any  present  desire;  and  conclude  with  them- 
selves, that  when  it  comes  to  trial  it  may  possiby  not 
answer  the  report  or  opinion  that  generally  passes  of 
it,  they  having  often  found  that  not  only  what  others 
have  magnified,  but  even  what  they  themselves  have 
enjoyed  with  great  pleasure  and  delight  at  one  time, 
has  proved  insipid  or  nauseous  at  another;  and  there- 
fore they  see  nothing  it  for  which  they  should  forego 
a  present  enjoyment.  But  that  this  is  a  false  way  of 
judging  when  applied  to  the  happiness  of  another  life, 
they  must  confess,  unless  they  will  say,  God  cannot 
make  those  happy  he  designs  to  be  so.  For  that  being 
intended  for  a  state  of  happiness,  it  must  certainly  be 
agreeable  to  every  one's  wish  and  desire:  could  we 
suppose  their  relishes  as  different  there  as  they  are 
here,  yet  the  manna  in  heaven  will  suit  every  one's 
palate.]  Thus  much  of  the  wrong  judgment  we  make 
of  present  and  future  pleasure  and  pain,  when  they 
are  compared  together,  and  so  the  absent  considered 
as  future. 


OF  POWER.  181 

66.  In  considering   consequences  of  actions. —  II. 
As  to  things  good  or  bad  in  their  consequences,  and 
by  the  aptness  is  in  them  to  procure  us  good  or  evil 
in  the  future,  we  judge  amiss  several  ways. 

(i.)  When  we  judge  that  so  much  evil  does  not 
really  depend  on  them,  as  in  truth  there  does. 

(2.)  When  we  judge,  that  though  the  -consequence 
be  of  that  moment,  yet  it  is  not  of  that  certainty  but 
that  it  may  otherwise  fall  out  or  else  by  some  means  be 
avoided,  as  by  industry,  address,  change,  repentance, 
&c.  That  these  are  wrong  ways  of  judging  were  easy 
to  show,  in  every  particular,  if  I  would  examine  them  at 
large  singly :  but  I  shall  only  mention  this  in  general, 
viz.,  that  it  is  a  very  wrong  and  irrational  way  of  pro- 
ceeding, to  venture  a  greater  good  for  a  less  upon 
uncertain  guesses,  and  before  a  due  examination  be 
made,  proportionable  to  the  weightiness  of  the  matter, 
and  the  concernment  it  is  to  us  not  to  mistake.  This, 
I  think,  every  one  must  confess,  especially  if  he  con- 
siders the  usual  cause  of  this  wrong  judgment,  where- 
of these  following  are  some. 

67.  Causes  of  this. —  I.  Ignorance:  He  that  judges 
without  informing  himself  to  the  utmost  that  he  is 
capable,  cannot  aquit  himself  of  judging  amiss. 

II.  Inadvertency:  When  a  man  overlooks  even  that 
which  he  does  know.  This  is  an  affected  and 
present  ignorance,  which  misleads  our  judgments 
as  much  as  the  other.  Judging  is,  as  it  were, 
balancing  an  account,  and  determining  on  which 
side  the  odds  lie.  If,  therefore,  either  side  be 
huddled  up  in  haste,  and  several  of  the  sums  that 
should  have  gone  into  the  reckoning  be  overlooked 
and  left  out,  this  precipitancy  causes  as  wrong 
a  judgment  as  if  it  were  a  perfect  ignorance.  That 


182     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

which  most  commonly  causes  this,  is  the  prevalency  of 
some  present  pleasure  or  pain,  heightened  by  our 
feeble  passionate  nature,  most  strongly  wrought  on  by 
what  is  present.  To  check  this  precipitancy,  our 
understanding  and  reason  were  given  us,  if  \ve  will 
make  a  right  use  of  it  to  search  and  see,  and  then 
judge  thereupon.  [Without  liberty,  the  understanding 
would  be  to  no  purpose:  and  without  understanding, 
liberty  (if  it  could  be)  would  signify  nothing.  If  a 
man  sees  what  would  do  him  good  or  harm,  what 
would  make  him  happy  or  miserable,  without  being 
able  to  move  himself  one  step  towards  or  from  it, 
what  is  he  the  better  for  seeing?  And  he  that  is  at 
liberty  to  ramble  in  perfect  darkness,  what  is  his 
liberty  better  than  if  he  were  driven  up  and  down  as 
a  bubble  by  the  force  of  the  wind?  The  being  acted 
by  a  blind  impulse  from  without  or  from  within,  is 
little  odds.  The  first,  therefore,  and  great  use  of 
liberty,  is  to  hinder  blind  precipitancy;  the  principal 
exercise  of  freedom  is,  to  stand  still,  open  the  eyes, 
look  about,  and  take  a  view  of  the  consequence  of 
what  we  are  going  to  do,  as  much  as  the  weight  of 
the  matter  requires.]  How  much  sloth  and  negligence, 
heat  and  passion,  the  prevalency  of  fashion,  or  ac- 
quired indispositions,  do  severally  contribute  on  occa- 
sion to  these  wrong  judgments,  I  shall  not  here 
farther  inquire.  [I  shall  only  add  one  other  false  judg- 
ment, which  I  think  necessary  to  mention,  because, 
perhaps,  it  is  little  taken  notice  of  though  of  great 
influence. 

68.  Wrong  judgment  of  what  is  necessary  to  our 
happiness. — All  men  desire  happiness,  that  is  past 
doubt:  but,  as  has  been  already  observed,  when  they 
are  rid  of  pain,  they  are  apt  to  take  up  with  any 


OF  POWER.  183 

pleasure  at  hand,  or  that  custom  has  endeared  to  them, 
to  rest  satisfied  in  that;  and  so  being  happy,  till  some 
new  desire,  by  making  them  uneasy,  disturbs  that 
happiness,  and  shows  them  that  they  are  not  so,  they 
look  no  father;  nor  is  the  will  determined  to  any 
action  in  pursuit  of  any  other  known  or  apparent 
good.  For  since  we  find  that  we  cannot  enjoy  all 
sorts  of  good,  but  one  excludes  another;  we  do  not 
fix  our  desires  on  every  apparent  greater  good,  unless 
it  be  judged  to  be  necessary  to  our  happiness:  if  we 
think  we  can  be  happy  without  it,  it  moves  us  not. 
This  is  another  occasion  to  men  of  judging  wrong, 
when  they  take  not  that  to  be  necessary  to  their  hap- 
piness which  really  is  so.  This  mistake  misleads  us 
both  in  the  choice  of  the  good  we  aim  at,  and  very 
often  in  the  means  to  it,  when  it  is  a  remote  good. 
But,  which  way  ever  it  be,  either  by  placing  it  where 
really  it  is  not,  or  by  neglecting  the  means  as  not 
necessary  to  it,  when  a  man  misses  his  great  end,  hap- 
piness, he  will  acknowledge  he  judged  not  right.  That 
which  contributes  to  this  mistake,  is  the  real  or  sup- 
posed unpleasantness  of  the  actions,  which  are  the 
way  to  this  end;  it  seeming  so  preposterous  a  thing 
to  men  to  make  themselves  unhappy  in  order  to  hap- 
piness, that  they  do  not  easily  bring  themselves  to  it. 

69.  We  can  change  the  agreeableness  or  disagree- 
ableness  in  things. —  The  last  inquiry,  therefore,  con- 
cerning this  matter  is,  Whether  it  be  in  a  man's  power 
to  change  the  pleasantness  and  unpleasantness  that 
accompanies  any  sort  of  action?  And,  as  to  that,  it 
is  plain  in  many  cases  he  can.  Men  may  and  should 
correct  their  palates,  and  give  a  relish  to  what  either 
has,  or  they  suppose  hasr  none.  The  relish  of  the 
mind  is  as  various  as  that  of  the  body,  and  like  that, 


i&4     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

too,  may  be  altered;  and  it  is  a  mistake  to  think  that 
men  cannot  change  the  displeasingness  or  indifferency 
that  is  in  actions  into  pleasure  and  desire,  if  they  will 
do  but  what  is  in  their  power.  A  due  consideration 
will  do  it  in  some  cases ;  and  practice,  application,  and 
custom  in  most.  Bread  or  tobacco  may  be  neglected, 
where  they  are  shown  to  be  useful  to  health,  because 
of  an  indifferency  or  disrelish  to  them;  reason  and 
consideration  at  first  recommends  and  begins  their 
trial,  and  use  finds  or  custom  makes  them  pleasant. 
That  this  is  so  in  virtue,  too,  is  very  certain.  Actions 
are  pleasing  or  displeasing,  either  in  themselves,  or 
considered  as  a  means  to  a  greater  and  more  desirable 
end.  The  eating  of  a  well-seasoned  dish,  suited  to  a 
man's  palate,  may  move  the  mind  by  the  delight  itself 
that  accompanies  the  eating,  without  reference  to  any 
other  end:  to  which  the  consideration  of  the  pleasure 
there  is  in  health  and  strength  (to  which  that  meat  is 
subservient)  may  add  a  new  gusto,  able  to  make  us 
swallow  an  ill-relished  potion.  In  the  latter  of  these, 
any  action  is  rendered  more  or  less  pleasing  only  by 
the  contemplation  of  the  end,  and  the  being  more  or 
less  persuaded  of  its  tendency  to  it,  or  necessary  con- 
nection with  it;  but  the  pleasure  of  the  action  itself  is 
best  acquired  or  increased  by  use  and  practice.  Trials 
often  reconcile  us  to  that  which  at  a  distance  we 
looked  on  with  aversion,  and  by  repetitions  wear  us 
into  a  liking  of  what  possibly  in  the  first  essay  dis- 
pleased us.  Habits  have  powerful  charms,  and  put  so 
strong  attractions  of  easiness  and  pleasure  into  what 
we  accustom  ourselves  to,  that  we  cannot  forbear  to 
do,  or  at  least  be  easy  in  the  omission  of,  actions  which 
habitual  practice  has  suited,  and  thereby  recommends 
to  us.  Though  this  be  very  visible,  and  every  one's 


OF  POWER.  185 

experience  shows  him  he  can  do  so;  yet  it  is  a  part  in 
the  conduct  of  men  towards  their  happiness  neglected 
to  a  degree,  that  it  will  be  possbly  entertained  as  a 
paradox,  if  it  be  said,  that  men  can  make  things  or 
actions  more  or  less  pleasing,  to  themselves ;  and 
thereby  remedy  that  to  which  one  may  justly  impute 
a  great  deal  of  their  wandering.  Fashion  and  the 
common  opinion  having  settled  wrong  notions,  and 
education  and  custom  ill  habits,  the  just  values  of 
things  are  misplaced,  and  the  palates  of  men  cor- 
rupted. Pains  should  be  taken  to  rectify  these;  and 
contrary  habits  change  our  pleasures,  and  give  a  relish 
to  that  which  is  necessary  or  conducive  to  our  happi- 
ness. This  every  one  must  confess  he  can  do;  and 
when  happiness  is  lost,  and  misery  overtakes  him,  he 
will  confess  he  did  amiss  in  neglecting  it,  and  con- 
demn himself  for  it :  and  I  ask  every  one,  whether  he 
has  not  often  done  so? 

70.  Preference  of  vice  to  virtue,  a  manifest  wrong 
judgment. —  I  shall  not  now  enlarge  any  farther  on  the 
wrong  judgments,  and  neglect  of  what  is  in  their 
power,  whereby  men  mislead  themselves.  This  would 
make  a  volume,  and  is  not  my  business.  But  whatever 
false  notions  or  shameful  neglect  of  what  is  in  their 
power,  may  put  men  out  of  their  way  to  happiness,  and 
distract  them,  as  we  see,  into  so  different  courses  of 
life,  this  yet  is  certain,  that]  morality,  established 
upon  its  true  foundations,  cannot  but  determine  the 
choice  in  any  one  that  will  but  consider:  and  he  that 
will  not  be  so  far  a  rational  creature,  as  to  reflect 
seriously  upon  infinite  happiness  and  misery,  must 
needs  condemn  himself  as  not  making  that  use  of  his 
understanding  he  should.  The  rewards  and  punish- 
ments of  another  life,  which  the  Almighty  has  estab- 


i86     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

lished  as  the  enforcements  of  his  law,  are  of  weight 
enough  to  determine  the  choice  against  whatever 
pleasure  or  pain  this  life  can  show,  when  the  eternal 
state  is  considered  but  in  its  bare  possibility,  which 
nobody  can  make  any  doubt  of.  He  that  will  allow 
exquisite  and  endless  happiness  to  be  but  the  possible 
consequence  of  a  good  life  here,  and  the  contrary  state 
the  possible  reward  of  a  bad  one,  must  own  himself 
to  judge  very  much  amiss  if  he  does  not  conclude,  that 
a  virtuous  life  with  the  certain  expectation  of  everlast- 
ing bliss  which  may  come,  it  to  be  preferred  to  a 
vicious  one,  with  the  fear  of  that  dreadful  state  of 
misery  which  it  is  very  possible  may  overtake  the 
guilty,  or  at  best  the  terrible  uncertain  hope  of  anni- 
hilation. This  is  evidently  so,  though  the  virtuous 
life  here  had  nothing  but  pain,  and  the  vicious  con- 
tinual pleasure:  which  yet  is,  for  the  most  part,  quite 
otherwise,  and  wicked  men  have  not  much  the  odds  to 
brag  of  even  in  their  present  possession;  nay,  all 
things  rightly  considered,  have,  I  think,  even  the 
worst  part  here.  But  when  infinite  happiness  is  put 
in  one  scale,  against  infinite  misery  in  the  other;  if 
the  worst  that  comes  to  the  pious  man  if  he  mistakes, 
be  the  best  that  the  wicked  can  attain  to  if  he  be  in 
the  right,  who  can  without  madness  run  the  venture? 
Who  in  his  wits  would  choose  to  come  within  a  possi- 
bility of  infinite  misery,  which  if  he  miss,  there  is  yet 
nothing  to  be  got  by  that  hazard!  Whereas,  on  the 
other  side,  the  sober  man  ventures  nothing  against  in- 
finite happiness  to  be  got,  if  his  expectation  comes  not 
to  pass.  If  the  good  man  be  in  the  right,  he  is  eternally 
happy;  if  he  mistakes,  he  is  not  miserable,  he  feels 
nothing.  On  the  other  side,  if  the  wicked  man  be  in  the 
right,  he  is  not  happy;  if  he  mistakes,  he  is  infinitely 


OF  POWER.  187 

miserable.  Must  it  not  be  a  most  manifest  wrong 
judgment,  that  does  not  presently  see  to  which  side, 
in  this  case,  the  preference  is  to  be  given?  I  have 
forborne  to  mention  any  thing  of  the  certainty  or 
probability  of  a  future  state,  designing  here  to  show  the 
wrong  judgment  that  any  one  must  allow  he  makes 
upon  his  own  principles,  laid  how  he  pleases,  who 
prefers  the  short  pleasures  of  a  vicious  life  upon  any 
consideration,  whilst  he  knows,  and  cannot  but  be  cer- 
tain that  a  future  life  is  at  least  possible. 

71.  Recapitulation. —  [To  conclude  this  inquiry  into 
human  liberty,  which,  as  it  stood  before,  I  myself 
from  the  beginning  fearing,  and  a  very  judicious 
friend  of  mine  since  the  publication  suspecting, 
to  have  some  mistake  in  it,  though  he  could  not 
particularly  show  it  me,  I  was  put  upon  a  stricter 
review  of  this  chapter:  wherein  lighting  upon  a  very 
easy  and  scarce  observable  slip  I  had  made  in  putting 
one  seemingly  indifferent  wdrd  for  another,  that  dis- 
covery opened  to  me  this  present  view,  which  here,  in 
this  second  edition,  I  submit  to  the  learned  world,  and 
which,  in  short,  is  this :  Liberty  is  a  power  to  act  or 
not  to  act,  according  as  the  mind  directs.  A  power  to 
direct  the  operative  faculties  to  motion  or  rest  in  par- 
ticular instances,  is  that  which  we  call  the  "  will." 
That  which  in  the  train  of  our  voluntary  actions  de- 
termines the  will  to  any  change  of  operation,  is  some 
present  uneasiness,  which  is,  or  at  least  is  always  ac- 
companied with,  that  of  desire.  Desire  is  always 
moved  by  evil,  to  fly  it ;  because  a  total  freedom  from 
pain  always  makes  a  necessary  part  of  our  happiness: 
but  every  good,  nay  every  greater  good,  does  not  con- 
stantly move  desire,  because  it  may  not  make,  or  may 
not  be  taken  to  make,  any  necessary  part  of  our  hap- 


i88     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

piness.  For  all  that  we  desire  is  only  to  be  happy. 
But  though  this  general  desire  of  happiness  operates 
constantly  and  invariably,  yet  the  satisfaction  of  any 
particular  desire  can  be  suspended  from  determining 
the  will  to  any  subservient  action,  till  we  have 
maturely  examined  whether  the  particular  apparent 
good,  which  we  then  desire,  makes  a  part  of  our  real 
happiness,  or  be  consistent  or  inconsistent  with  it. 
The  result  of  our  judgment  upon  that  examination,  is 
what  ultimately  determines  the  man,  who  could  not 
be  free  if  his  will  were  determined  by  any  thing  but 
his  own  desire,  guided  by  his  own  judgment.]  [I  know 
that  liberty  by  some  is  placed  in  an  indifferency  of  the 
man,  antecedent  to  the  determination  of  his  will.  I 
wish  they  who  lay  so  much  stress  on  such  an  "  ante- 
cedent indifferency,"  as  they  call  it,  had  told  us  plainly 
whether  this  supposed  indifferency  be  antecedent  to 
the  thought  and  judgment  of  the  understanding,  as 
well  as  to  the  decree  of  the  will.  For  it  is  pretty  hard 
to  state  it  between  them ;  *.  e.,  immediately  after  the 
judgment  of  the  understanding,  and  before  the  deter- 
mination of  the  will ;  because  the  determination  of  the 
will  immediately  follows  the  judgment  of  the  under- 
standing: and  to  place  liberty  in  an  indifferency  ante- 
cedent to  the  thought  and  judgment  of  the  under- 
standing, seems  to  me  to  place  liberty  in  a  state  of 
darkness,  wherein  we  can  neither  see  nor  say  any 
thing  of  it;  at  least  it  places  it  in  a  subject  incapable 
of  it,  no  agent  being  allowed  capable  of  liberty,  but  in 
consequence  of  thought  and  judgment.  I  am  not  nice 
about  phrases,  and  therefore  consent  to  say,  with 
those  that  love  to  speak  so,  that  liberty  is  placed  in 
indifferency;  but  it  is  an  indifferency  that  remains 
after  the  judgment  of  the  understanding;  yea,  even 


OF  POWER.  189 

after  the  determination  of  the  will:  and  that  is  an 
indifferency  not  of  the  man;  (for  after  he  has  once 
judged  which  is  best,  viz.,  to  do,  or  forbear,  he  is  no 
longer  indifferent;)  but  an  indifferency  of  the  opera- 
tive powers  of  the  man,  which  remaining  equally  able 
to  operate  or  to  forbear  operating  after  as  before  the 
decree  of  the  will,  are  in  a  state  which,  if  one  pleases, 
may  be  called  "  indifferency ; "  and  as  far  as  this  in- 
differency reaches,  a  man  is  free,  and  no  farther. 
V.  g.,  I  have  the  ability  to  move  my  hand,  or  to  let 
it  rest;  that  operative  power  is  indifferent  to  move  or 
not  to  move  my  hand :  I  am,  then,  in  that  respect  per- 
fectly free.  My  will  determines  that  operative  power 
to  rest :  I  am  yet  free,  because  the  indifferency  of  that 
my  operative  power  to  act  or  not  to  act  still  remains ; 
the  power  of  moving  my  hand  is  not  at  all  impaired  by 
the  determination  of  my  will,  which  at  present  orders 
rest ;  the  indifferency  of  that  power  to  act  or  not  to  act, 
is  just  as  it  was  before,  as  will  appear  if  the  will  puts 
it  to  the  trial,  by  ordering  the  contrary.  But  if  during 
the  rest  of  my  hand  it  be  seized  with  a  sudden  palsy, 
the  indifferency  of  that  operative  power  is  gone,  and 
with  it  my  liberty;  I  have  no  longer  freedom  in  that 
respect,  but  am  under  a  necessity  of  letting  my  hand 
rest.  On  the  other  side,  if  my  hand  be  put  into  motion 
by  a  convulsion,  the  indifferency  of  that  operative 
faculty  is  taken  away  by  that  motion,  and  my  liberty 
in  that  case  is  lost:  for  I  am  under  a  necessity  of 
having  my  hand  move.  I  have  added  this,  to  show 
in  what  sort  of  indifferency  liberty  seems  to  me  to 
consist,  and  not  in  any  other,  real  or  imaginary.] 

72.  [True  notions  concerning  the  nature  and  extent 
of  liberty  are  of  so  great  importance,  that  I  hope  I 
shall  be  pardoned  this  digression,  which  my  attempt 


ipo     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

to  explain  it  has  led  me  into.  The  ideas  of  will,  voli- 
tion, liberty,  and  necessity,  in  this  chapter  of  power, 
came  naturally  in  my  way.  In  a  former  edition  of 
this  treatise,  I  gave  an  account  of  my  thoughts  con- 
cerning them,  according  to  the  light  I  then  had :  and 
now,  as  a  lover  of  truth,  and  not  a  worshipper  of  my 
own  doctrines,  I  own  some  change  of  my  opinion, 
which  I  think  I  have  discovered  ground  for.  In  what 
I  first  writ,  I  with  an  unbiassed  indifferency  followed 
truth  whither  I  thought  she  led  me.  But  neither  be- 
ing so  vain  as  to  fancy  infallibility,  nor  so  disingenu- 
ous as  to  dissemble  my  mistakes  for  fear  of  blemish- 
ing my  reputation,  I  have,  with  the  same  sincere 
design  for  truth  only,  not  been  ashamed  to  publish 
what  a  severer  inquiry  has  suggested.  It  is  not  im- 
possible but  that  some  may  think  my  former  notions 
right,  and  some  (as  I  have  already  found)  these  latter, 
and  some  neither.  I  shall  not  at  all  wonder  at  this 
variety  in  men's  opinions;  impartial  deductions  of 
reason  in  controverted  points  being  so  rare,  and  ex- 
act ones  in  abstract  notions  not  so  very  easy,  espe- 
cially if  of  any  length.  And  therefore  I  should  think 
myself  not  a  little  beholden  to  any  one,  who  would 
upon  these  or  any  other  grounds,  fairly  clear  this 
subject  of  liberty  from  any  difficulties  that  may  yet 
remain.] 

[Before  I  close  this  chapter,  it  may  perhaps  be  to  our 
purpose,  and  help  to  give  us  clearer  conceptions  about 
power,  if  we  make  our  thoughts  take  a  little  more 
exact  survey  of  action.  I  have  said  above,  that  we 
have  ideas  but  of  two  sorts  of  action,  viz.,  motion  and 
thinking.  These,  in  truth,  though  called  and  counted 
"  actions,"  yet,  if  nearly  considered,  will  not  be  found 
to  be  always  perfectly  so.  For,  if  I  mistake  not,  there 


OF  POWER.  191 

are  instances  of  both  kinds,  which,  upon  due  considera- 
tion, will  be  found  rather  passions  than  actions,  and 
consequently  so  far  the  effects  barely  of  passive 
powers  in  those  subjects  which  yet  on  their  accounts 
are  thought  agents.  For  in  these  instances  the  sub- 
stance that  hath  motion  or  thought  receives  the  impres- 
sion, whereby  it  is  put  into  that  action,  purely  from 
without,  and  so  acts  merely  by  the  capacity  it  has  to 
receive  such  an  impression  from  some  external  agent; 
and  such  a  power  is  not  properly  an  active  power,  but 
a  mere  passive  capacity  in  the  subject.  Sometimes 
the  substance  or  agent  puts  itself  into  action  by  its 
own  power ;  and  this  is  properly  active  power.  What- 
soever modification  a  substance  has  whereby  it  pro- 
duces any  effect,  that  is  called  "  action ;  "  v.  g.,  a  solid 
substance  by  motion  operates  on  or  alters  the  sensible 
ideas  of  another  substance,  and  therefore  this  modi- 
fication of  motion  we  call  "  action."  But  yet  this 
motion  in  that  solid  substance  is,  when  rightly  con- 
sidered, but  a  passion,  if  it  received  it  only  from  some 
external  agent.  So  that  the  active  power  of  motion 
is  in  no  substance  which  cannot  begin  motion  in 
itself,  or  in  another  substance,  when  at  rest.  So  like- 
wise in  thinking,  a  power  to  receive  ideas  or  thoughts 
from  the  operation  of  any  external  substance,  is  called 
"  a  power  of  thinking :  "  but  this  is  but  a  passive 
power  or  capacity.  But  to  be  able  to  bring  into  view 
ideas  out  of  sight  at  one's  own  choice,  and  to  com- 
pare which  of  them  one  thinks  fit,  this  is  an  active 
power.  This  reflection  may  be  of  some  use  to  pre- 
serve us  from  mistakes  about  powers  and  actions, 
which  grammar  and  the  common  frame  of  languages 
may  be  apt  to  lead  us  into :  since  what  is  signified  by 
verbs  that  grammarians  call  "  active,"  does  not  always 


192     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

signify  action ;  v.  g.,  this  proposition,  "  I  see  the  moon 
or  a  star,"  or  "  I  feel  the  heat  of  the  sun,"  though  ex- 
pressed by  a  verb  active,  does  not  signify  any  action 
in  me  whereby  I  operate  on  those  substances ;  but  only 
the  reception  of  the  ideas  of  light,  roundness,  and  heat, 
wherein  I  am  not  active,  but  barely  passive,  and  can- 
not, in  that  position  of  my  eyes  or  body,  avoid  receiv- 
ing them.  But  when  I  turn  my  eyes  another  way,  or 
remove  my  body  out  of  the  sunbeams,  I  am  properly 
active;  because  of  my  own  choice,  by  a  power  within 
myself,  I  put  myself  into  that  motion.  Such  an  action 
is  the  product  of  active  power.] 

73.  And  thus  I  have,  in  a  short  draught,  given  a 
view  of  our  original  ideas,  from  whence  all  the  rest 
are  derived,  and  of  which  they  are  made  up ;  which  if 
I  would  consider  as  a  philosopher,  and  examine  on 
what  causes  they  depend,  and  of  what  they  are  made, 
I  believe  they  all  might  be  reduced  to  these  very  few 
primary  and  original  ones,  viz.,  extension,  solidity, 
mobility,  or  the  power  of  being  moved;  which  by  our 
senses  we  receive  from  body:  perceptivity,  or  the 
power  of  perception,  or  thinking;  motivity,  or  the 
power  of  moving ;  which  by  reflection  we  receive  from 
our  minds.  I  crave  leave  to  make  use  of  these  two 
new  words,  to  avoid  the  danger  of  being  mistaken  in 
the  use  of  those  which  are  equivocal.  To  which  if  we 
add  existence,  duration,  number,  which  belong  both 
to  the  one  and  the  other,  we  have  perhaps  all  the 
original  ideas  on  which  the  rest  depend.  For  by 
these,  I  imagine,  might  be  explained  the  nature  of 
colours,  sounds,  tastes,  smells,  and  all  other  ideas  we 
have,  if  we  had  but  faculties  acute  enough  to  perceive 
the  severally-modified  extensions  and  motions  of  these 
minute  bodies  which  produce  those  several  sensations  in 


OF  POWER.  193 

us.  But  my  present  purpose  being  only  to  inquire  into 
the  knowledge  the  mind  has  of  things  by  those  ideas 
and  appearances  which  God  has  fitted  it  to  receive  from 
them,  and  how  the  mind  comes  by  that  knowledge, 
rather  than  into  their  causes  or  manner  of  production, 
I  shall  not,  contrary  to  the  design  of  this  essay,  set 
myself  to  inquire  philosophically  into  the  peculiar  con- 
stitution of  bodies  and  the  configuration  of  parts, 
whereby  they  have  the  power  to  produce  in  us  the 
ideas  of  their  sensible  qualities,  I  shall  not  enter  any 
farther  into  that  disquisition,  it  sufficing  to  my  pur- 
pose to  observe,  that  gold  or  saffron  has  a  power  to 
produce  in  us  the  idea  of  yellow;  and  snow  or  milk, 
the  idea  of  white ;  which  we  can  only  have  by  our 
sight,  without  examining  the  texture  of  the  parts  of 
those  bodies,  or  the  particular  figures  or  motion  of  the 
particles  which  rebound  from  them,  to  cause  in  us  that 
particular  sensation;  though  when  we  go  beyond  the 
bare  ideas  in  our  minds,  and  would  inquire  into  their 
causes,  we  cannot  conceive  any  thing  else  to  be  in 
any  sensible  object  whereby  it  produces  different 
ideas  in  us,  but  the  different  bulk,  figure,  number, 
texture,  and  motion  of  its  insensible  parts. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

OF   OUR    COMPLEX    IDEAS   OF   SUBSTANCES. 

I.     Ideas   of   substances,    how   made. —  The   mind 
being,  as  I  have  declared,  furnished  with  a  great  num- 


194     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

her  of  the  simple  ideas  conveyed  in  by  the  senses,  as 
they  are  found  in  exterior  things,  or  by  reflection  on 
its  own  operations,  takes  notice,  also,  that  a  certain 
number  of  these  simple  ideas  go  constantly  together; 
which  being  presumed  to  belong  to  one  thing,  and 
words  being  suited  to  common  agprehensions,  and 
made  use  of  for  quick  despatch,  are  called,  so  united 
in  one  subject,  by  one  name;  which,  by  inadvertency, 
we  are  apt  afterward  to  talk  of  and  consider  as  one 
simple  idea,  which  indeed  is  a  complication  of  many 
ideas  together:  because,  as  I  have  said,  not  imagining 
how  these  simple  ideas  can  subsist  by  themselves,  we 
accustom  ourselves  to  suppose  some  substratum 
wherein  they  do  subsist,  and  from  which  they  do 
result ;  which  therefore  we  call  "  substance." 

2.  Our  idea  of  substance  in  general. —  So  that  if 
any  one  will  examine  himself  concerning  his  notion  of 
pure  substance  in  general,  he  will  find  he  has  no  other 
idea  of  it  at  all,  but  only  a  supposition  of  he  knows  not 
what  support  of  such  qualities  which  are  capable  of 
producing  simple  ideas  in  us ;  which  qualities  are 
commonly  called  "  accidents."  If  any  one  should  be 
asked,  "  What  is  the  subject  wherein  colour  or  weight 
inheres  ?  "  he  would  have  nothing  to  say  but,  "  The 
solid  extended  parts."  And  if  he  were  demanded, 
"  What  is  it  that  solidity  and  extension  inhere  in,"  he 
would  not  be  in  a  much  better  case  than  the  Indian 
before  mentioned,  who,  saying  that  the,  world  was 
supported  by  a  great  elephant,  was  asked,  what  the 
elephant  rested  on  ?  to  which  his  answer  was,  "  A 
great  tortoise ;  "  but  being  again  pressed  to  know  what 
gave  support  to  the  broad-backed  tortoise,  replied, — 
something,  he  knew  not  what.  And  thus  here,  as  in 


OF  OUR  COMPLEX  IDEAS  OF  SUBSTANCES.     195 

all  other  cases  where  we  use  words  without  having 
clear  and  distinct  ideas,  we  talk  like  children ;  who, 
being  questioned  what  such  a  thing  is  which  they 
know  not,  readily  give  this  satisfactory  answer,— that 
it  is  something;  which  in  truth  signifies  no  more, 
when  so  used,  either  by  children  or  men,  but  that  they 
know  not  what;  and  that  the  thing  they  pretend  to 
know  and  talk  of,  is  what  they  have  no  distinct  idea 
of  at  all,  and  so  are  perfectly  ignorant  of  it,  and  in 
the  dark.  The  idea,  then,  we  have,  to  which  we  give 
the  general  name  "  substance,"  being  nothing  but 
the  supposed,  but  unknown,  support  of  those  qualities 
we  find  existing,  which  we  imagine  cannot  subsist 
sine  re  substante,  "  without  something  to  support 
them,"  we  call  that  support  substantia;  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  true  import  of  the  word,  is,  in  plain  Eng- 
lish, "  standing  under,"  or  "  upholding." 

3.  Of  the  sorts  of  substances. —  An  obscure  and 
relative  idea  of  substance  in  general  being  thus  made, 
we  come  to  have  the  ideas  of  particular  sorts  of  sub- 
stances, by  collecting  such  combinations  of  simple 
ideas  as  are  by  experience  and  observation  of  men's 
senses  taken  notice  of  to  exist  together,  and  are  there- 
fore supposed  to  flow  from  the  particular  internal  con- 
stitution or  unknown  essence  of  that  substance.  Thus 
we  come  to  have  the  ideas  o'f  a  man,  horse,  gold, 
water,  &c.,  of  which  substances,  whether  any  one  has 
any  other  clear  idea,  farther  than  of  certain  simple 
ideas  co-existing  together,  I  appeal  to  every  one's  own 
experience.  It  is  the  ordinary  qualities  observable  in 
iron  or  a  diamond,  put  together,  that  make  the  true 
complex  idea  of  those  substances,  which  with  a  smith 
or  a  jeweller  commonly  knows  better  than  a  philos- 
opher ;  who,  whatever  substantial  forms  he  may  talk  of, 


196     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

has  no  other  idea  of  those  substances  than  what  is 
framed  by  a  collection,  of  those  simple  ideas  which  are 
to  be  found  in  them.  Only  we  must  take  notice,  that 
our  complex  ideas  of  substances,  besides  all  these 
simple  ideas  they  are  made  up  of,  have  always  the  con- 
fused idea  of  something  to  which  they  belong,  and  in 
which  they  subsist :  and  therefore  when  we  speak  of  any 
sort  of  substance,  we  say  it  is  a  thing  having  such  or 
such  qualities ;  as,  body  is  a  thing  that  is  extended, 
figured,  and  capable  of  motion ;  spirit ;  a  thing  capable 
of  thinking;  and  so  hardness,  friability,  and  power  to 
draw  iron,  we  say,  are  qualities  to  be  found  in  a  load- 
stone. These  and  the  like  fashions  of  speaking,  inti- 
mate that  the  substance  is  supposed  always  something, 
besides  the  extension,  figure,  solidity,  motion,  think- 
ing, or  other  observable  ideas,  though  we  know  not 
what  it  is. 

4.  No  clear  idea  of  substance  in  general. —  Hence, 
when  we  talk  or  think  of  any  particular  sort  of  cor- 
poreal substances,  as  horse,   stone,   &c.,  though   the 
idea  we  have  of  either  of  them  be  but  the  complica- 
tion or  collection  of  those  several  simple  ideas  of  sen- 
sible qualities  which  we  used  to  find  united  in  the 
thing  called  "  horse  "   or  "  stone ;  "  yet  because  we 
cannot  conceive  how  they  should  subsist  alone,  nor 
one  in  another,  we  suppose  them  existing  in,  and  sup- 
ported by,  some  common  subject ;  which  support  we 
denote  by  the  name  "  substance,"  though  it  be  cer- 
tain we  have  no  clear  or  distinct  idea  of  that  thing  we 
suppose  a  support. 

5.  As  clear  an  idea  of  spirit  as  body. —  The  same 
happens  concerning  the  operations  of  the  mind;  viz., 
thinking,  reasoning,  fearing,  &c.,  which  we,  conclud- 
ing not  to  subsist  of    themselves,  nor  apprehending 


OF  OUR  COMPLEX  IDEAS  OF  SUBSTANCES.      197 

how  they  can  belong  to  body,  or  be  produced  by  it, 
we  are  apt  to  think  these  the  actions  of  some  other 
substance,  which  we  call  "  spirit ; "  whereby  yet  it  is 
evident,  that  having  no  other  idea  or  notion  of  matter, 
but  something  wherein  those  many  sensible  qualities 
which  affect  our  senses  do  subsist;  by  supposing  a 
substance  wherein  thinking,  knowing,  doubting,  and 
a  power  of  moving,  &c.,  do  subsist;  we  have  as  clear 
a  notion  of  the  substance  of  spirit  as  we  have  of  body : 
the  one  being  supposed  to  be  (without  knowing  what 
it  is)  the  substratum  to  those  simple  ideas  we  have 
from  without;  and  the  other  supposed  (with  a  like 
ignorance  of  what  it  is)  to  be  the  substratum  to  those 
operations  which  we  experiment  in  ourselves  within. 
It  is  plain,  then,  that  the  idea  of  corporeal  substance 
in  matter  is  as  remote  from  our  conceptions  and  ap- 
prehensions as  that  of  spiritual  substance,  or  spirit ; 
and  therefore,  from  our  not  having  any  notion  of  the 
substance  of  spirit,  we  can  no  more  conclude  its  non- 
existence  than  we  can,  for  the  same  reason,  deny  the 
existence  of  body :  it  being  as  rational  to  affirm  there 
is  no  body,  because  we  have  no  clear  and  distinct  idea 
of  the  substance  of  matter,  as  to  say  there  is  no  spirit, 
because  we  have  no  clear  and  distinct  idea  of  the  sub- 
stance of  a  spirit. 

6.  Of  the  sorts  of  substances. —  Whatever  there- 
fore be  the  secret  and  abstract  nature  of  substance  in 
general,  all  the  ideas  we  have  of  particular,  distinct 
sorts  of  substances,  are  nothing  but  several  combina- 
tions of  simple  ideas  co-existing  in  such,  though  un- 
known, cause  of  their  union,  as  makes  the  whole  sub- 
sist of  itself.  It  is  by  such  combinations  of  simple 
ideas,  and  nothing  else,  that  we  represent  particular 
sorts  of  substances  to  ourselves ;  such  are  the  ideas  we 


ip8     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

have  of  their  several  species  in  our  minds;  and  such 
only  do  we,  by  their  specific  names,  signify  to  others; 
v.  g.,  man,  horse,  sun,  water,  iron ;  upon  hearing 
which  words  every  one,  who  understands  the  lan- 
guage, frames  in  his  mind  a  combination  of  those  sev- 
eral simple  ideas  which  he  has  usually  observed  or 
fancied  to  exist  together  under  that  denomination ;  all 
which  he  supposes  to  rest  in,  and  be,  as  it  were,  adher- 
ent to,  that  unknown  common  subject,  which  inheres 
not  in  anything  else:  though  in  the  mean  time  it  be 
manifest,  and  every  one  upon  inquiry  into  his  own 
thoughts  will  find,  that  he  has  no  other  idea  of  any  sub- 
stance, v.  g.,  let  it  be  gold,  horse,  iron,  man,  vitriol, 
bread,  but  what  he  has  barely  of  those  sensible  qualities 
which  he  supposes  to  inhere  with  a  supposition  of  such  a 
substratum  as  gives,  as  it  were,  a  support  to  those 
qualities,  or  simple  ideas,  which  he  has  observed  to 
exist  united  together.  Thus,  the  idea  of  the  sun,  what 
is  it  but  an  aggregate  of  those  several  simple  ideas, — 
bright,  hot,  roundish,  having  a  constant  regular  mo- 
tion, at  a  certain  distance  from  us, — and  perhaps  some 
other  ?  as  he  who  thinks  and  discourses  of  the  sun  has 
been  more  or  less  accurate  in  observing  those  sensible 
qualities,  ideas,  or  properties  which  are  in  that  thing 
which  he  calls  the  "  sun." 

7.  Power,  a  great  part  of  our  complex  ideas  of 
substances. —  For  he  has  the  perfectest  idea  of  any  of 
of  the  particular  sorts  of  substances  who  has  gathered 
and  put  together  most  of  those  simple  ideas  which  do 
exist  in  it,  among  which  are  to  be  reckoned  its  active 
powers  and  passive  capacities ;  which,  though  not 
simple  ideas,  yet  in  this  respect,  for  brevity's  sake, 
may  conveniently  enough  be  reckoned  amongst  them. 
Thus,  the  power  of  drawing  iron  is  one  of  the  ideas 


OF  OUR  COMPLEX  IDEAS  OF  SUBSTANCES.      199 

of  the  complex  one  of  that  substance  we  call  a  "  load- 
stone," and  a  power  to  be  so  drawn  is  a  part  of  the 
complex  one  we  call  "  iron ; "  which  powers  pass  for 
inherent  qualities  in  those  subjects:  because  every 
substance  being  as  apt,  by  the  powers  we  observe  in  it, 
to  change  some  sensible  qualities  in  other  subjects,  as 
it  is  to  produce  in  us  those  simple  ideas  which  we  re- 
ceive immediately  from  it,  does,  by  those  new  sensible 
qualities  introduced  into  other  subjects,  discover  to  us 
those  powers  which  do  thereby  mediately  affect  our 
senses  as  regularly  as  its  sensible  qualities  do  it  im- 
mediately ;  v.  g.,  we  immediately  by  our  senses  per- 
ceive in  fire  its  heat  and  colour;  which  are,  if  rightly 
considered,  nothing  but  powers  in  it  to  produce  those 
ideas  in  us :  we  also  by  our  senses  perceive  the  colour 
and  brittleness  of  charcoal,  whereby  we  come  by  the 
knowledge  of  another  power  in  fire,  which  it  has  to 
change  the  colour  and  consistency  of  wood.  By  the 
former,  fire  immediately,  by  the  latter  it  mediately, 
discovers  to  us  these  several  powers,  which  therefore 
we  look  upon  to  be  a  part  of  the  qualities  of  fire,  and 
so  make  them  a  part  of  the  complex  idea  of  it.  For, 
all  those  powers  that  we  take  cognizance  of,  terminat- 
ing only  in  the  alteration  of  some  sensible  qualities  in 
those  subjects  on  which  they  operate,  and  so  making 
them  exhibit  to  us  new  sensible  ideas;  therefore  it  is 
that  I  have  reckoned  these  powers  amongst  the  simple 
ideas  which  make  the  complex  ones  of  the  sorts  of 
substances;  though  these  powers,  considered  in  them- 
selves, are  truly  complex  ideas.  And  in  this  looser 
sense  I  crave  leave  to  be  understood,  when  I  name  any 
of  these  potentialities  amongst  the  simple  ideas  which 
we  recollect  in  our  minds  when  we  think  of  particular 
substances.  For  the  powers  that  are  severally  in  them 


200     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

are  necessary  to  be  considered,  if  we  will  have  true 
distinct  notions  of  the  several  sorts  of  substances. 

8.  And  why. —  Nor  are  we  to  wonder  that  powers 
make  a  great  part  of  our  complex  ideas  of  substances, 
since   their   secondary   qualities   are   those   which,   in 
most  of  them,   serve  principally   to  distinguish   sub- 
stances one  from  another,  and  commonly  make  a  con- 
siderable part  of  the  complex  idea  of  the  several  sorts 
of  them.     For,  our  senses  failing  us  in  the  discovery 
of  the  bulk  texture,  and  figure  of  the  minute  parts  of 
bodies,  on  which  their  real  constitutions  and  differ- 
ences depend,  we  are  fain  to  make  use  of  their  sec- 
ondary   qualities,    as    the    characteristical    notes    and 
marks  whereby  to  frame  ideas  of  them  in  our  minds, 
and  distinguish  them  one  from  another,  all  which  sec- 
ondary qualities,  as  has  been  shown,  are  nothing  but 
bare  powers.    For  the  colour  and  taste  of  opium  are, 
as  well  as  its  soporific  or  anodyne  virtues,  mere  powers 
depending  on  its  primary  qualities,  whereby  it  is  fitted 
to  produce  different  operations  on  different  parts  of 
our  bodies. 

9.  Three  sorts  of  ideas  make  our  complex  ones  of 
substances. —  The  ideas  that  make  our  complex  ones 
of  corporeal  substances  are  of  these  three  sorts.    First. 
The  ideas  of  the  primary  qualities  of  things  which  are 
discovered  by  our  senses,  and  are  in  them  even  when 
we  perceive  them  not :  such  are  the  bulk,  figure,  num- 
ber, situation,  and  motion  of  the  parts  of  bodies,  which 
are  really  in  them,  whether  we  take  notice  of  them  or 
no.    Secondly.  The  sensible  secondary  qualities  which, 
depending  on  these,  are  nothing  but  the  powers  those 
substances  have  to  produce  several  ideas  in  us  by  our 
senses;  which  ideas  are  not  in  the  things  themselves 
otherwise  than  as  any  thing  is  in  its  cause.    Thirdly. 


OF  OUR  COMPLEX  IDEAS  OF  SUBSTANCES.     201 

The  aptness  we  consider  in  any  substance  to  give  or 
receive  such  alterations  of  primary  qualities  as  that 
the  substance  so  altered  should  produce  in  us  different 
ideas  from  what  it  did  before ;  these  are  called  "  active 
and  passive  powers : "  all  which  powers,  as  far  as  we 
have  any  notice  or  notion  of  them,  terminate  only  in 
sensible  simple  ideas.  For,  whatever  alteration  a 
loadstone  has  the  power  to  make  in  the  minute  parti- 
cles of  iron,  we  should  have  no  notion  of  any  power 
it  had  at  all  to  operate  on  iron,  did  not  its  sensible 
motion  discover  it;  and  I  doubt  not  but  there  are  a 
thousand  changes  that  bodies  we  daily  handle  have  a 
power  to  cause  in  one  another,  which  we  never  sus- 
pect, because  they  never  appear  in  sensible  effects. 

10.  Powers  make  a  great  part  of  our  complex  ideas 
of  substances, —  Powers  therefore  justly  make  a  great 
part  of  our  complex  ideas  of  substances.  He  that  will 
examine  his  complex  idea  of  gold,  will  find  several  of 
its  ideas  that  make  it  up  to  be  only  powers:  as  the 
power  of  being  melted,  but  of  not  spending  itself  in  the 
fire,  of  being  dissolved  in  aqua  regia,  are  ideas  as  neces- 
sary to  make  up  our  complex  idea  of  gold,  as  its  colour, 
and  weight :  which,  if  duly  considered,  are  also  noth- 
ing but  different  powers.  For,  to  speak  truly,  yel- 
lowness is  not  actually  in  gold ;  but  is  a  power  in  gold 
to  produce  that  idea  in  us  by  our  eyes,  when  placed 
in  a  due  light ;  and  the  heat  which  we  cannot  leave  out 
of  our  idea  of  the  sun,  is  no  more  really  in  the  sun 
than  the  white  colour  it  introduces  into  wax.  These 
are  both  equally  powers  in  the  sun,  operating,  by  the 
motion  and  figure  of  its  insensible  parts,  so  on  a  man 
as  to  make  him  have  the  idea  of  heat ;  and  so  on  wax 
as  to  make  it  capable  to  produce  in  a  man  the  idea 
of  white. 


202     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

11.  The  now  secondary  qualities  of  bodies  would 
disappear,  if  we  could  discover  the  primary  ones  of 
their  minute  parts. —  Had  we  senses  acute  enough  to 
discern  the  minute  particles  of  bodies,  and  the  real 
constitution  on  which  their  sensible  qualities  depend, 
I  doubt  not  but  they  would  produce  quite  different 
ideas  in  us,  and  that  which  is  now  the  yellow  colour 
of  gold  would  then  disappear,  and  instead  of  it  we 
should  see  an  admirable  texture  of  parts  of  a  certain 
size  and  figure.  This  microscopes  plainly  discover  to  us ; 
for,  what  to  our  naked  eyes  produces  a  certain  colour 
is,  by  thus  augmenting  the  acuteness  of  our  senses, 
discovered  to  be  quite  a  different  thing;  and  the  thus 
altering,  as   it  were,  the  proportion  of  the  bulk   of 
the  minute  parts  of  a  coloured  object  to  our  usual 
sight,  produces  different  ideas  from  what  it  did  before. 
Thus  sand,  or  pounded  glass,  which  is  opaque  and 
white  to  the  naked  eye,  is  pellucid  in  a  microscope; 
and  a  hair  seen  this  way  loses  its  former  colour,  and 
is  in  a  great  measure  pellucid,  with  a  mixture  of  some 
bright  sparkling  colours,  such  as  appear  from  the  re- 
fraction of  diamonds  and  other  pellucid  bodies.     Blood 
to  the  naked  eye  appears  all  red ;  but  by  a  good  mi- 
croscope, wherein  its  lesser  parts  appear,  shows  only 
some   few  globules  of  red,  swimming  in  a  pellucid 
liquor;  and  how  these  red  globules  would  appear,  if 
glasses  could  be  found  that  yet  could  magnify  them  one 
thousand  or  ten  thousand  times  more,  is  uncertain. 

12.  Our  faculties  of  discovery  suited  to  our  state. 
—  The  infinite  wise  Contriver  of  us  and  all  things 
about  us  hath  fitted  our  senses,  faculties,  and  organs 
to  the  conveniences  of  life,  and  the  business  we  have 
to  do  here.     We  are  able  by  our  senses  to  know  and 
distinguish  things,  and  to  examine  them  so  far  as  to 


OF  OUR  CO  AM  FLEX  IDEAS  OF  SUBSTANCES.     203 

apply  them  to  our  uses,  and  several  ways  to  accommo- 
date the  exigencies  of  this  life.  We  have  insight 
enough  into  their  admirable  contrivances  and  wonder- 
ful effects  to  admire  and  magnify  the  wisdom,  power, 
and  goodness  of  their  Author.  Such  a  knowledge  as 
this,  which  is  suited  to  our  present  condition,  we  want 
not  faculties  to  attain.  But  it  appears  not  that  God 
intended  we  should  have  a  perfect,  clear,  and  adequate 
knowledge  of  them,  that  perhaps  is  not  in  the  compre- 
hension of  any  finite  being.  We  are  furnished  with 
faculties  (dull  and  weak  as  they  are)  to  discover 
enough  in  the  creatures  to  lead  us  to  the  knowledge 
of  the  Creator,  and  the  knowledge  of  our  duty;  and 
we  are  fitted  well  enough  with  abilities  to  provide  for 
the  conveniences  of  living;  these  are  our  business  in 
this  world.  But  were  our  senses  altered,  and  made 
much  quicker  and  acuter,  the  appearance  and  outward 
scheme  of  things  would  have  quite  another  face  to 
us ;  and,  I  am  apt  to  think,  would  be  inconsistent  with 
our  being,  or  at  least  well-being,  in  this  part  of  the 
universe  which  we  inhabit.  He  that  considers  how 
little  our  constitution  is  able  to  bear  a  remove  into 
parts  of  this  air  not  much  higher  than  that  we  com- 
monly breathe  in,  will  have  reason  to  be  satisfied  that, 
in  this  globe  of  earth  allotted  for  our  mansion,  the  all- 
wise  Architect  has  suited  our  organs  and  the  bodies 
that  are  to  affect  them  one  to  another.  If  our  sense 
of  hearing  were  but  a  thousand  times  quicker  than  it 
is,  how  would  a  perpetual  noise  distract  us!  and  we 
should,  in  the  quietest  retirement,  be  less  able  to  sleep 
or  meditate  than  in  the  middle  of  a  sea-fight.  Nay, 
if  that  most  instructive  of  our  senses,  seeing,  were  in 
any  man  a  thousand  or  a  hundred  thousand  times  more 
acute  than  it  is  by  the  best  microscope,  things  sev- 


204     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

eral  million  of  times  less  than  the  smallest  object 
of  his  sight  now  would  then  be  visible  to  his  naked 
eyes,  and  so  he  would  come  nearer  the  discovery  of 
the  texture  and  motion  of  the  minute  parts  of  cor- 
poreal things,  and  in  many  of  them  probably  get  ideas 
of  their  internal  constitutions;  but  then  he  would  be 
in  a  quite  different  world  from  other  people;  nothing 
would  appear  the  same  to  him  and  others ;  the  visible 
ideas  of  every  thing  would  be  different.  So  that  I 
doubt  whether  he  and  the  rest  of  men  could  discourse 
concerning  the  objects  of  sight,  or  have  any  com- 
munication about  colours,  their  appearances  being  so 
wholly  different.  And  perhaps  such  a  quickness  and 
tenderness  of  sight  could  not  endure  bright  sunshine, 
or  so  much  as  open  daylight;  nor  take  in  but  a  very 
small  part  of  any  object  at  once,  and  that  too  only  at 
a  very  near  distance.  And  if  by  the  help  of  such 
microscopical  eyes  (if  I  may  so  call  them),  a  man 
could  penetrate  farther  than  ordinary  into  the  secret 
composition  and  radical  texture  of  bodies,  he  would 
not  make  any  great  advantage  by  the  change,  if  such 
an  acute  sight  would  not  serve  to  conduct  him  to  the 
market  and  exchange;  if  he  could  not  see  things  he 
was  to  avoid  at  a  convenient  distance,  nor  distinguish 
things  he  had  to  do  with  by  those  sensible  qualities 
others  do.  He  that  was  sharp-sighted  enough  to  see 
the  configuration  of  the  minute  particles  of  the  spring 
of  a  clock,  and  observe  upon  what  peculiar  structure 
and  impulse  its  elastic  motion  depends,  would  no  doubt 
discover  something  very  admirable.  But  if  eyes  so 
framed  could  not  view  at  once  the  hand,  and  the 
characters  of  the  hour-plate,  and  thereby  at  a  dis- 
tance see  what  o'clock  it  was,  their  owner  could  not 
be  much  benefited  by  that  acuteness;  which,  whilst 


OF  OUR  COMPLEX  IDEAS  OF  SUBSTANCES.     205 

it  discovered  the  secret  contrivance  of  the  parts  of  the 
machine,  made  him  lose  its  use. 

13.  Conjecture  about  spirits. —  And  here  give  me 
leave  to  propose  an  extravagant  conjecture  of  mine, 
viz.,  that,  since  we  have  some  reason  (if  there  be  any 
credit  to  be  given  to  the  report  of  things  that  our 
philosophy  cannot  account  for)  to  imagine  that  spirits 
can  assume  to  themselves  bodies  of  different  bulk, 
figure,  and  conformation  of  parts;  whether  one  great 
advantage  some  of  them  have  over  us  may  not  lie  in 
this,  that  they  can  so  frame  and  shape  to  themselves 
organs  of  sensation  or  perception  as  to  suit  them  to 
their  present  design,  and  the  circumstances  of  the 
object  they  would  consider.  For,  how  much  would 
that  man  exceed  all  others  in  knowledge,  who  had  but 
the  faculty  so  to  alter  the  structure  of  his  eyes  (that 
one  sense),  as  to  make  it  capable  of  all  the  several 
degrees  of  vision,  which  the  assistance  of  glasses 
(casually  at  first  lighted  on)  has  taught  us  to  conceive ! 
What  wonders  would  he  discover  who  could  so  fit 
his  eyes  to  all  sorts  of  objects,  as  to  see  when  he 
pleased  the  figure  and  motion  of  the  minute  particles 
in  the  blood  and  other  juices  of  animals,  as  distinctly 
as  he  does  at  other  times  the  shape  and  motion  of  the 
animals  themselves!  But  to  us,  in  our  present  state, 
unalterable  organs,  so  contrived  as  to  discover  the  fig- 
ure and  motion  of  the  minute  parts  of  bodies  whereon 
depend  those  sensible  qualities  we  now  observe  in 
them,  would  perhaps  be  of  no  advantage.  God  has, 
no  doubt,  made  them  so  as  is  best  for  us  in  our  present 
condition.  He  hath  fitted  us  for  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  bodies  that  surround  us,  and  we  have  to  do 
with ;  and  though  we  cannot,  by  the  faculties  we  have, 
attain  to  a  perfect  knowledge  of  things,  yet  they  will 


206     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

serve  us  well  enough  for  those  ends  above  mentioned, 
which  are  our  great  concernment.  I  beg  my  reader's 
pardon  for  laying  before  him  so  wild  a  fancy  con- 
cerning the  ways  of  perception  in  beings  above  us ;  but 
how  extravagant  soever  it  be,  I  doubt  whether  we 
can  imagine  any  thing  about  the  knowledge  of  angels 
but  after  this  manner,  some  way  or  other,  in  propor- 
tion to  what  we  find  and  observe  in  ourselves.  And 
though  we  cannot  but  allow  that  the  infinite  power  and 
wisdom  of  God  may  frame  creatures  with  a  thousand 
other  faculties  and  ways  of  perceiving  things  with- 
out them  than  what  we  have,  yet  our  thoughts  can 
go  no  farther  than  our  own,  so  impossible  it  is  for 
us  to  enlarge  our  very  guesses  beyond  the  ideas  re- 
ceived from  our  own  sensation  and  reflection.  The 
supposition,  at  least,  that  angels  do  sometimes  assume 
bodies,  needs  not  startle  us,  since  some  of  the  most 
ancient  and  most  learned  Fathers  of  the  church  seemed 
to  believe  that  they  had  bodies;  and  this  is  certain, 
that  their  state  and  way  of  existence  is  unknown  to  us. 
14.  Complex  ideas  of  substances. —  But  to  return 
to  the  matter  in  hand,  the  ideas  we  have  of  substances, 
and  the  ways  we  come  by  them;  I  say,  Our  specific 
ideas  of  substances  are  nothing  else  but  a  collection 
of  a  certain  number  of  simple  ideas,  considered  as 
united  in  one  thing.  These  ideas  of  substances, 
though  they  are  commonly  "  simple  apprehensions," 
and  the  names  of  them  "  simple  terms ; "  yet,  in 
effect,  are  complex  and  compounded.  Thus  the 
idea  which  an  Englishman  signifies  by  the  name 
"  swan,"  is  white  colour,  long  neck,  red  beak,  black 
legs,  and  whole  feet,  and  all  these  of  a  certain  size, 
with  a  power  of  swimming  in  the  water,  and  making 
a  certain  kind  of  noise ;  and  perhaps  to  a  man  who 


OF  OUR  COMPLEX  IDEAS  OF  SUBSTANCES.     207 

has  long  observed  this  kind  of  birds,  some  other 
properties,  which  all  terminate  in  sensible  simple  ideas, 
-all  united  in  one  common  subject. 

15.  Idea  of  spiritual  substances  as  clear  as  of  bod- 
ily substances. —  Besides  the  complex  ideas  we  have  of 
material  sensible  substances,  of  which  I  have  last 
spoken,  by  the  simple  ideas  we  have  taken  from  those 
operations  of  our  own  minds,  which  we  experiment 
daily  in  ourselves,  as  thinking,  understanding,  willing, 
knowing,  and  power  of  beginning  motion,  &c.,  co- 
existing in  some  substance,  we  are  able  to  frame  the 
complex  idea  of  an  immaterial  spirit.  And  thus,  by 
putting  together  the  ideas  of  thinking,  perceiving,  lib- 
erty, and  power  of  moving  themselves  and  other 
things,  we  have  as  clear  a  perception  and  notion  of . 
immaterial  substances  as  we  have  of  material.  For 
putting  together  the  ideas  of  thinking  and  willing, 
or. the  power  of  moving  or  quieting  corporeal  motion, 
joined  to  substance,  of  which  we  have  no  distinct  idea, 
we  have  the  idea  of  an  immaterial  spirit ;  and  by  put- 
ting together  the  ideas  of  coherent  solid  parts,  and  a 
power  of  being  moved,  joined  with  substance,  of 
which,  likewise  we  have  no  positive  idea,  we  have 
the  idea  of  matter.  The  one  is  as  clear  and  distinct  an 
idea  as  the  other:  the  idea  of  thinking  and  moving 
a  body  being  as  clear  and  distinct  ideas  as  the  ideas  of 
extension,  solidity,  and  being  moved.  For  our  idea 
of  substance  is  equally  obscure,  or  none  at  all,  in  both ; 
it  is  but  a  supposed  I-know-not-what,  to  support  those 
ideas  we  call  "  accidents."  [It  is  for  want  of  reflection 
that  we  are  apt  to  think  that  our  senses  show  us 
nothing  but  material  things.  Every  act  of  sensation, 
when  duly  considered,  gives  us  an  equal  view  of  both 
parts  of  nature,  the  corporeal  and  spiritual.  For, 


208     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

whilst  I  know,  by  seeing  or  hearing,  &c.,  that  there 
is  some  corporeal  being  without  me,  the  object  of  that 
sensation,  I  do  more  certainly  know  that  there  is 
some  spiritual  being  within  me  that  sees  and  hears. 
This  I  must  be  convinced  cannot  be  the  action  of  bare 
insensible  matter,  nor  ever  could  be  without  an  im- 
material thinking  being.] 

16.  No  idea  of  abstract  substance. —  By  the  com- 
plex idea  of  extended,  figured,  coloured,  and  all  other 
sensible  qualities,   which  is  all  that  we  know  of  it, 
we  are  as  far  from  the  idea  of  the  substance  of  body 
as  if  we  knew  nothing  at  all ;  nor  after  all  the  acquaint- 
ance and  familiarity  which  we  imagine  we  have  with 
matter,  and  the  many  qualities  men  assure  themselves 
they  perceive  and  know   in  bodies,  will  it,  perhaps, 
upon  examination  be  found,  that  they  have  any  more 
or  clearer  primary  ideas  belonging  to  body  than  they 
have  belonging  to  immaterial  spirit. 

17.  The  cohesion  of  solid  parts  and  impulse,  the 
primary  ideas  of  body. —  The  primary  ideas  we  have 
peculiar  to  body,  as  contra-distinguished  to  spirit,  are 
the  cohesion  of  solid,  and  consequently  separable  parts, 
and  a  power  of  communicating  motion  by  impulse. 
These,  I  think,  are  the  original  ideas  proper  and  pecul- 
iar to  body;   for  figure   is   but  the  consequence  of 
finite  extension. 

18.  Thinking  and  motivity,  the  primary  ideas  of 
spirit. —  The   ideas   we  have  belonging  and  peculiar 
to  spirit  are  thinking,  and  will,  or  a  power  of  putting 
body  into  motion  by  thought,  and,  which  is  conse- 
quent to  it,  liberty.     For  as  body  cannot  but  com- 
municate its  motion  by  impulse  to  another  body,  which 
it  meets  with  at  rest ;  so  the  mind  can  put  bodies  into 
motion,  or  forbear  to  do  so,  as  it  pleases.     The  ideas  of 


OF  OUR  COMPLEX  IDEAS  OF  SUBSTANCES.     209 

existence,  duration,  and  mobility  are  common  to  them 
both. 

19.  Spirits  capable  of  motion. —  There  is  no  reason 
why  it  should  be  thought  strange  that  I  make  mobility 
belong  to  spirit;  for,  having  no  other  idea  of  motion 
but  change  of  distance  with  other  beings  that  are  con- 
sidered as  at  rest;  and  finding  that  spirits  as  well  as 
bodies  cannot  operate  but  where  they  are,  and  that 
spirits  do  operate  at  several  times  in  several  places,  I 
cannot  but  attribute  change  of  place  to  all  finite  spirits ; 
—  for  of  the  infinite  Spirit  I  speak  not  here.     For,  my 
soul,  being  a  real  being,  as  well  as  my  body,  is  cer- 
tainly as  capable  of  changing  distance  with  any  other 
body  or  being  as  body  itself,  and  so  is  capable  of  mo- 
tion.    And  if  a  mathematician  can  consider  a  certain 
distance  or  a  change  of  that   distance  between  two 
points,  one  may  certainly  conceive  a  distance  and  a 
change  of  distance  between  two  spirits;  and  so  con- 
ceive their  motion,   their  approach   or   removal,   one 
from  another. 

20.  Every  one  finds  in  himself,  that  his  soul  can 
think,   will,   and   operate   on   his   body,   in  the  place 
where  that  is;  but  cannot  operate  on  a  body,  or  in  a 
place,  an  hundred  miles  distant  from  it.     Nobody  can 
imagine,  that  his  soul  can  think  or  move  a  body  at 
Oxford,  whilst  he  is  at  London ;  and  cannot  but  know 
that,  being  united  to  his  body,  it  constantly  changes 
place   all   the    whole    journey   between    Oxford    and 
London,  as  the  coach  or  horse  does  that  carries  him; 
and  I  think  may  be  said  to  be  truly  all  that  while  in 
motion :  or,  if  that  will  not  be  allowed  to  afford  us 
a  clear  idea  enough  of  its  motion,  its  being  separated 
from  the  body  in  death,  I  think,  will ;  for,  to  consider 


2io     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

it  as  going  out  of  the  body,  or  leaving  it,  and  yet  to 
have  no  idea  of  its  motion,  seems  to  me,  impossible. 

21.  If  it  be  said  by  any  one,  that  it  cannot  change 
place,  because  it  hath  none,  for  the  spirits  are  not  in 
/0c0,but  ubi;  I  suppose  that  way  of  talking  will  not  now 
be  of  much  weight  to  many  in  an  age  that  is  not  much 
disposed  to  admire,  or  suffer  themselves  to  be  deceived 
by,  such  unintelligible  ways  of  speaking.     But  if  any 
one  thinks  there  is  any  sense  in  that  distinction,  and 
that  it  is  applicable  to  our  present  purpose,  I 'desire 
him  to  put  it  into  intelligible  English,  and  then  from 
thence  draw  a  reason  to  show  that  immaterial  spirits 
are  not  capable  of  motion.     Indeed,  motion  cannot  be 
attributed  to  God,  not  because  he  is  an  immaterial, 
but  because  he  is  an  infinite,  Spirit. 

22.  Idea  of  soul  and  body  compared. —  Let  us  com- 
pare, then,  our  complex  idea  of  an  immaterial  spirit 
with  our  complex  idea  of  body,  and  see  whether  there 
be  any  more  obscurity  in  one  than  in  the  other,  and  in 
which  most.     Our  idea  of  body,  as  I  think,  is  an  ex- 
fended  solid  substance,  capable  of  communicating  mo- 
tion by  impulse :  and  our  idea  of  soul,  as  an  immaterial 
spirit,  is  of  a  substance  that  thinks,  and  has  a  power  of 
exciting  motion  in  body,  by  willing  or  thought.     These, 
I  think,  are  our  complex  ideas  of  soul  and  body,  as 
contra-distinguished;  and  now  let  us  examine  which 
has  most  obscurity  in  it,  and  difficulty  to  be  appre- 
hended.    I  know  that  people,  whose  thoughts  are  im- 
mersed in  matter,  and  have  so  subjected  their  minds 
to  their  senses  that  they  seldom  reflect  on  any  thing 
beyond  them,  are  apt  to  say,  they  cannot  comprehend 
a  thinking  thing,  which  perhaps  is  true:  but  I  affirm 
when  they  consider  it  well,  they  can  no  more  com- 
prehend an  extended  thing. 


OF  OUR  COMPLEX  IDEAS  OF  SUBSTANCES.     211 

23.  Cohesion  of  solid  parts  in  body,  as  hard  to  be 
conceived  as  thinking  in  a  soul. —  If  any  one  says,  he 
knows  not  what  it  is  thinks  in  him;  he  means,  he 
knows  not  what  the  substance  is  of  that  thinking 
thing :  no  more,  say  I,  knows  he  what  the  substance  is 
of  that  solid  thing.  Farther,  if  he  says,  he  knows  not 
how  he  thinks;  I  answer,  Neither  knows  he  how  he 
is  extended ;  how  the  solid  parts  of  body  are  united  or 
cohere  together  to  make  extension.  For  though  the 
pressure  of  the  particles  of  air  may  account  for  the 
cohesion  of  several  parts  of  matter  that  are  grosser  than 
the  particles  of  air,  and  have  pores  less  than  the 
corpuscles  of  air;  yet  the  weight  or  pressure  of  the 
air  will  not  explain,  nor  can  be  a  cause  of,  the  co- 
herence of  the  particles  of  air  themselves.  And  if  the 
pressure  of  the  ether,  or  any  subtiler  matter  than  the 
air,  may  unite  and  hold  fast  together  the  parts  of  a 
particle  of  air,  as  well  as  other  bodies;  yet  it  cannot 
make  bonds  for  itself,  and  hold  together  the  parts  that 
make  up  every  the  least  corpuscle  of  that  materia  sub- 
tilis.  So  that  that  hypothesis,  how  ingeniously  soever 
explained,  by  showing  that  the  parts  of  sensible  bod- 
ies are  held  together  by  the  pressure  of  other  external 
insensible  bodies,  reaches  not  the  parts  of  the  ether 
itself;  and  by  how  much  the  more  evident  it  proves 
that  the  parts  of  other  bodies  are  held  together  by  the 
external  pressure  of  the  ether,  and  can  have  no  other 
conceivable  cause  of  their  cohesion  and  union,  by  so 
much  the  more  it  leaves  us  in  the  dark  concerning  the 
cohesion  of  the  parts  of  the  corpuscles  of  the  ether  it- 
self ;  which  we  can  neither  conceive  without  parts,  they 
being  bodies  and  divisible;  nor  yet  how  their  parts 
cohere,  they  wanting  that  cause  of  cohesion  which  is 
given  of  the  cohesion  of  the  parts  of  all  other  bodies. 


212     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

24.  But,  in  truth,  the  pressure  of  any  ambient  fluid, 
how  great  soever,  can  be  no  intelligible  cause  of  the 
cohesion  of  the  solid  parts  of  matter.  For  though 
such  a  pressure  may  hinder  the  avulsion  of  two  pol- 
ished superficies  one  from  another,  in  a  line  perpen- 
dicular to  them,  as  in  the  experiment  of  two  polished 
marbles;  yet  it  can  never,  in  the  least,  hinder  the 
separation  by  a  motion,  in  a  line  parallel  to  those  sur- 
faces. Because  the  ambient  fluid,  having  a  full  liberty 
to  succeed  in  each  point  of  space  deserted  by  a  lateral 
motion,  resists  such  a  motion  of  bodies  so  joined,  no 
more  than  it  would  resist  the  motion  of  that  body  were 
it  on  all  sides  environed  by  that  fluid,  and  touched  no 
other  body :  and  therefore,  if  there  were  no  other  cause 
of  cohesion,  all  parts  of  bodies  must  be  easily  separable 
by  such  a  lateral  sliding  motion.  For  if  the  pressure 
of  the  ether  be  the  adequate  cause  of  cohesion,  wher- 
ever that  cause  operates  not,  there  can  be  no  cohesion. 
And  since  it  cannot  operate  against  a  lateral  sep- 
aration (as  has  been  shown),  therefore  in  every 
imaginary  plane,  intersecting  any  mass  of  matter, 
there  could  be  no  more  cohesion  than  of  two  polished 
surfaces,  which  will  always,  notwithstanding  any 
imaginable  pressure  of  a  fluid,  easily  slide  one  from 
another.  So  that  perhaps,  how  clear  an  idea  soever 
we  think  we  have  of  the  extension  of  body,  which 
is  nothing  but  the  cohesion  of  solid  parts,  he  that  shall 
well  consider  it  in  his  mind,  may  have  reason  to  con- 
clude, that  it  is  as  easy  for  him  to  have  a  clear  idea 
how  the  soul  thinks,  as  how  body  is  extended.  For 
since  body  is  no  farther  nor  otherwise  extended  than 
by  the  union  and  cohesion  of  its  solid  parts,  we  shall 
very  ill  comprehend  the  extension  of  body  without 
understanding  wherein  consists  the  union  and  cohesion 


OF  OUR  COMPLEX  IDEAS  OF  SUBSTANCES.     213 

of  its  parts;  which  seems  to  me  as  incomprehensible 
as  the  manner  of  thinking,  and  how  it  is  performed. 

25.  I  allow  it  is  usual  for  most  people  to  wonder 
how  any  one  should  find  a  difficulty  in  what  they  think 
they  every  day  observe.     "  Do  we  not  see,"  will  they 
be  ready  to  say,  "  that  parts  of  bodies  stick  firmly  to- 
gether?    Is   there   any    thing   more   common?    And 
what  doubt  can  there  be  made  of  it  ?  "     And  the  like 
I  say  concerning  thinking,  and  voluntary  motion :     Do 
we  not  every  moment  experiment  it  in  ourselves ;  and 
therefore  can  it  be  doubted?    The  matter  of  fact  is 
clear,  I  confess;  but  when  we  would  a  little  nearer 
look  into  it,  and  consider  how  it  is  done,  there,  I  think, 
we  are  at  a  loss,  both  in  the  one  and  the  other;  and 
can  as  little  understand  how  the  parts  of  body  cohere, 
as  how  we  ourselves  perceive  or  move.     I  would  have 
any  one  intelligibly  explain  to  me,  how  the  parts  of 
gold  or  brass  (that  but  now  in  fusion  were  as  loose 
from  one  another  as  the  particles  of  water,  or  the  sands 
of  an  hour-glass)  come  in  a  few  moments  to  be  so 
united,  and  adhere  so  strongly  one  to  another,  that  the 
utmost  force  of  men's  arms  cannot  separate  them:  a 
considering  man  will,  I  suppose,  be  here  at  a  loss  to 
satisfy  his  own  or  another  man's  understanding. 

26.  The  little  bodies  that  compose  that  fluid  we  call 
"  water "  are  so  extremely  small,  that  I  have  never 
heard  of  any  one  who,  by  a  microscope  (and  yet  I  have 
heard  of  some  that  have  magnified  to  10,000,  nay  to 
much   above    100,000   times),    pretended   to   perceive 
their  distinct  bulk,  figure,  or  motion.     And  the  par- 
ticles of  water  are  also  so  perfectly  loose  one  from 
another,  that  the  least  force  sensibly  separates  them; 
nay,  if  we  consider  their  perpetual  motion,  we  must  al- 
low them  to  have  no  cohesion  one  with  another;  and 


214     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

yet  let  but  a  sharp  cold  come,  and  they  unite,  they 
consolidate,  these  little  atoms  cohere,  and  are  not, 
without  great  force,  separable.  He  that  could  find  the 
bonds  that  tie  these  heaps  of  loose  little  bodies  together 
so  firmly,  he  that  could  make  known  the  cement  that 
makes  them  stick  so  fast  one  to  another,  would  dis- 
cover a  great  and  yet  unknown  secret :  and  yet,  when 
that  was  done,  would  he  be  far  enough  from  making 
the  extension  of  body  (which  is  the  cohesion  of  its 
solid  parts)  intelligible,  till  he  could  show  wherein 
consisted  the  union  or  consolidation  of  the  parts  of 
those  bonds,  or  of  that  cement,  or  of  the  least  particle 
of  matter  that  exists.  Whereby  it  appears,  that  this 
primary  and  supposed  obvious  quality  of  body  will  be 
found,  when  examined,  to  be  as  incomprehensible,  as 
any  thing  belonging  to  our  minds,  and  a  solid  extended 
substance,  as  hard  to  be  conceived  as  a  thinking  imma- 
terial one,  whatever  difficulties  some  would  raise 
against  it. 

27.  For,  to  extend  our  thoughts  a  little  farther, 
that  pressure,  which  is  brought  to  explain  the  cohesion 
of  bodies,  is  as  unintelligible  as  the  cohesion  itself. 
For,  if  matter  be  considered,  as  no  doubt  it  is,  finite, 
let  any  one  send  his  contemplation  to  the  extremities 
of  the  universe,  and  there  see  what  conceivable  hoops, 
what  bond,  he  can  imagine  to  hold  this  mass  of  mat- 
ter in  so  close  a  pressure  together,  from  whence  steel 
has  its  firmness,  and  the  parts  of  a  diamond  their  hard- 
ness and  indissolubility.  If  matter  be  finite,  it  must 
have  its  extremes;  and  there  must  be  something  to 
hinder  it  from  scattering  asunder.  If,  to  avoid  this 
difficult}',  any  one  will  throw  himself  into  the  suppo- 
sition and  abyss  of  infinite  matter,  let  him  consider 
what  light  he  thereby  brings  to  the  cohesion  of  body ; 


OF  OUR  COMPLEX  IDEAS  OF  SUBSTANCES.     215 

and  whether  he  be  ever  the  nearer  making  it  intelli- 
gible, by  resolving  it  into  a  supposition  the  most  ab- 
surd and  most  incomprehensible  of  all  other:  so  far  is 
our  extension  of  body  (which  is  nothing  but  the  co- 
hesion of  solid  parts)  from  being  clearer,  or  more  dis- 
tinct, when  we  would  inquire  into  the  nature,  cause,  or 
manner  of  it,  than  the  idea  of  thinking. 

28.  Communication  of  motion  by  impulse,  or  by 
thought,  equally  intelligible. —  Another  idea  we  have  of 
body,  is  the  power  of  communication  of  motion  by 
impulse ;  and  of  our  souls,  the  power  of  exciting  mo- 
tion by  thought.  These  ideas,  the  one  of  body,  the 
other  of  our  minds,  every  day's  experience  clearly  fur- 
nishes us  with :  but  if  here  again  we  inquire  how  this  is 
done,  we  are  equally  in  the  dark.  For  in  the  commun- 
ication of  motion  by  impulse,  wherein  as  much  motion 
is  lost  to  one  body  as  is  got  to  the  other,  which  is  the 
ordinariest  case,  we  can  have  no  other  conception  but 
of  the  passing  of  motion  out  of  one  body  into  another ; 
which,  I  think,  is  as  obscure  and  inconceivable,  as  how 
our  minds  move  or  stop  our  bodies  by  thought ;  which 
we  every  moment  find  they  do.  The  increase  of  mo- 
tion by  impulse,  which  is  observed  or  believed  some- 
times to  happen,  is  yet  harder  to  be  understood.  We 
have  by  daily  experience  clear  evidence  of  motion  pro- 
duced both  by  impulse  and  by  thought;  but  the  man- 
ner how,  hardly  comes  within  our  comprehension;  we 
are  equally  at  a  loss  in  both.  So  that,  however  we 
consider  motion,  and  its  communication  either  from 
body  or  spirit,  the  idea  which  belongs  to  spirit  is  at 
least  as  clear  as  that  which  belongs  to  body.  And 
if  we  consider  the  active  power  of  moving,  or,  as  I  may 
call  it,  "  motivity,"  it  is  much  clearer  in  spirit  than 
body,  since  two  bodies,  placed  by  one  another  at  rest, 


216     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

will  never  afford  us  the  idea  of  a  power  in  the  one 
to  move  the  other,  but  by  a  borrowed  motion :  whereas 
the  mind  every  day  affords  ideas  of  an  active  power  of 
moving  of  bodies;  and  therefore  it  is  worth  our  con- 
sideration, whether  active  power  be  not  the  proper  at- 
tribute of  spirits,  and  passive  power  of  matter.  Hence 
may  be  conjectured,  that  created  spirits  are  not  totally 
separate  from  matter ;  because  they  are  both  active  and 
passive.  Pure  spirit,  viz.,  God,  is  only  active;  pure 
matter  is  only  passive;  those  beings  that  are  both  ac- 
tive and  passive,  we  may  judge  to  partake  of  both. 
But  be  that  as  it  will,  I  think  we  have  as  many  and  as 
clear  ideas  belonging  to  spirit  as  we  have  belonging  to 
body,  the  substance  of  each  being  equally  unknown  to 
us;  and  the  idea  of  thinking  in  spirit,  as  clear  as  of 
extension  in  body :  and  the  communication  of  motion 
by  thought,  which  we  attribute  to  spirit,  is  as  evident 
as  that  by  impulse  which  we  ascribe  to  body.  Con- 
stant experience  makes  us  sensible  of  both  of  these, 
though  our  narrow  understandings  can  comprehend 
neither.  For  when  the  mind  would  look  beyond  those 
original  ideas  we  have  from  sensation  or  reflection,  and 
penetrate  into  their  causes  and  manner  of  production, 
we  find  still  it  discovers  nothing  but  its  own  short- 
sightedness. 

29.  To  conclude :  Sensation  convinces  us,  that  there 
are  solid,  extended  substances;  and  reflection,  that 
there  are  thinking  ones ;  experience  assures  us  of-  the 
existence  of  such  beings ;  and  that  the  one  hath  a 
power  to  move  body  by  impulse,  the  other  by  thought ; 
this  we  cannot  doubt  of.  Experience,  I  say,  every 
moment  furnishes  us  with  the  clear  ideas  both  of  the 
one  and  the  other.  But  beyond  these  ideas,  as  received 
from  their  proper  sources,  our  faculties  will  not  reach. 


OF  OUR  COMPLEX  IDEAS  OF  SUBSTANCES.     217 

If  we  would  inquire  farther  into  their  nature,  causes, 
and  manner,  we  perceive  not  the  nature  of  extension 
clearer  than  we  do  of  thinking.  If  we  would  ex- 
plain them  any  farther,  one  is  as  easy  as  the  other ; 
and  there  is  no  more  difficulty  to  conceive  how  a  sub- 
stance we  know  not  should  by  thought  set  body  into 
motion,  than  how  a  substance  we  know  not  should  by 
impulse  set  body  into  motion.  So  that  we  are  no  more 
able  to  discover  wherein  the  ideas  belonging  to  body 
consist,  than  those  belonging  to  spirit.  From  whence 
it  seems  probable  to  me,  that  the  simple  ideas  we  re- 
ceive from  sensation  and  reflection  are  the  boundaries 
of  our  thoughts;  beyond  which,  the  mind,  whatever 
efforts  it  would  make,  is  not  able  to  advance  one  jot; 
nor  can  it  make  any  discoveries,  when  it  would  pry  into 
the  nature  and  hidden  causes  of  those  ideas. 

30.  Idea  of  body  and  spirit  compared. —  So  that,  in 
short,  the  idea  we  have  of  spirit,  compared  with  the 
idea  we  have  of  body,  stands  thus:  The  substance 
of  spirit  is  unknown  to  us;  and  so  is  the  substance 
of  body  equally  unknown  to  us :  two  primary  qualities 
or  properties  of  body,  viz.,  solid  coherent  parts  and  im- 
pulse, we  have  distinct  clear  ideas  of :  so  likewise  we 
know  and  have  distinct  clear  ideas  of  two  primary 
qualities  or  properties  of  spirit,  viz.,  thinking,  and  a 
power  of  action ;  i.  e.,  a  power  of  beginning  or  stopping 
several  thoughts  or  motions.  We  have  also  the  ideas 
of  several  qualities  inherent  in  bodies,  and  have  the 
clear  distinct  ideas  of  them :  which  qualities  are  but 
the  various  modifications  of  the  extension  of  cohering 
solid  parts  and  their  motion.  We  have  likewise  the 
ideas  of  several  modes  of  thinking,  viz.,  believing, 
doubting,  intending,  fearing,  hoping;  all  which  are 
but  the  several  modes  of  thinking.  We  have  also  the 


218     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

ideas  of  willing,  and  moving  the  body  consequent  to 
it,  and  with  the  body  itself  too;  for,  as  has  been 
showed,  spirit  is  capable  of  motion. 

31.  The  notion  of  spirit  involves  no  more  difficulty 
in  it  than  that  of  body. —  Lastly.     If  this  notion  of  im- 
material spirit  may  have,  perhaps,  some  difficulties  in 
it  not  easy  to  be  explained,  we  have  therefore  no  more 
reason  to  deny  or  doubt  the  existence  of  such  spirits, 
than  we  have  to  deny  or  doubt  the  existence  of  body 
because  the  notion  of  body  is  cumbered  with  some 
difficulties,   very  hard   and   perhaps  impossible  to   be 
explained   or   understood  by   us.     For   I   would   fain 
have  instanced  any  thing  in  our  notion  of  spirit  more 
perplexed,  or  nearer  a  contradiction,  than  the  very  no- 
tion of  body  includes  in  it;  the  divisibility  in  infinitnm 
of  any  finite  extension  involving  us,  whether  we  grant 
or  deny  it,  in  consequences  impossible  to  be  explicated 
or  made  in  our  apprehensions  consistent ;  consequences 
that  carry  greater  difficulty  and  more  apparent  absurd- 
ity, than  any  thing  can  follow  from  the  notion  of  an 
immaterial  knowing  substance. 

32.  We  know  nothing  beyond  our  simple  ideas. — 
Which  we  are  not  at  all  to  wonder  at,  since  we,  having 
but  some  few  superficial  ideas  of  things,  discovered  to 
us  only  by  the  senses  from  without,  or  by  the  mind 
reflecting  on  what  it  experiments  in  itself  within,  have 
no  knowledge  beyond  that,  much  less  of  the  internal 
constitution  and  true  nature  of  things,  being  destitute 
of  faculties  to  attain  it.     And  therefore  experimenting 
and  discovering  in  ourselves  knowledge  and  the  power 
of  voluntary  motion,  as  certainly  as  we  experiment  or 
discover  in  things  without  us  the  cohesion  and  sepa- 
ration of  solid  parts,  which  is  the  extension  and  mo- 
tion of  bodies ;  we  have  as  much  reason  to  be  satisfied 


OF  OUR  COMPLEX  IDEAS  OF  SUBSTANCES.     219 

with  our  notion  of  immaterial  spirit,  as  with  our  no-, 
tion  of  body;  and  the  existence  of  the  one  as  well 
as  the  other.  For,  it  being  no  more  a  contradiction 
that  thinking  should  exist  separate  and  independent 
from  solidity,  than  it  is  a  contradiction  that  solidity 
should  exist  separate  and  independent  from  thinking, 
they  being  both  but  simple  ideas,  independent  one  from 
another;  and  having  as  clear  and  distinct  ideas  in  us 
of  thinking  as  of  solidity,  I  know  not  why  we  may 
not  as  well  allow  a  thinking  thing  without  solidity,  i.e., 
immaterial,  to  exist,  as  a  solid  thing  without  thinking, 
i.e.,  matter,  to  exist;  especially  since  it  is  not  harder  to 
conceive  how  thinking  should  exist  without  matter, 
than  how  matter  should  think.  For  whensoever  we 
would  proceed  beyond  these  simple  ideas  we  have 
from  sensation  and  reflection,  and  dive  farther  into 
the  nature  of  things,  we  fall  presently  into  darkness 
and  obscurity,  perplexedness  and  difficulties;  and  can 
discover  nothing  farther  but  our  own  blindness  and 
ignorance.  But  whichever  of  these  complex  ideas  be 
clearest,  that  of  body  or  immaterial  spirit,  this  is  evi- 
dent, that  the  simple  ideas  that  make  them  up  are  no 
other  than  what  we  have  received  from  sensation  or 
reflection ;  and  so  is  it  of  all  our  other  ideas  of  sub- 
stances, even  of  God  himself. 

33.  Idea  of  God. —  For  if  we  examine  the  idea  we 
have  of  the  incomprehensible  Supreme  Being,  we  shall 
find,  that  we  come  by  it  the  same  way;  and  that  the 
complex  ideas  we  have  both  of  God  and  separate  spir- 
its are  made  of  the  simple  ideas  we  receive  from 
reflection:  v.  g.,  having,  from  what  we  experiment  in 
ourselves,  got  the  ideas  of  existence  and  duration, 
of  knowledge  and  power,  of  pleasure  and  happiness, 
and  of  several  other  qualities  and  powers  which  it  is 


220     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

better  to  have  than  to  be  without;  when  we  would 
frame  an  idea  the  most  suitable  we  can  to  the  Su- 
preme Being,  we  enlarge  every  one  of  these  with  our 
idea  of  infinity ;  and  so,  putting  them  together,  make 
our  complex  idea  of  God.  For,  that  the  mind  has 
such  a  power  of  enlarging  some  of  its  ideas,  received 
from  sensation  and  reflection,  has  been  already  showed. 

34.  If  I  find  that  I  know  some  few  things;  and 
some  of  them,  or  all,  perhaps,  imperfectly ;  I  can  frame 
an  idea  of  knowing  twice  as  many,  which  I  can  double 
again  as  often  as  I  can  add  to  number;  and  thus  en- 
large my  idea  of  knowledge,  by  extending  its  compre- 
hension to  all  things  existing  or  possible.     The  same 
also  I  can  do  of  knowing  them  more  perfectly ;  i.  e., 
all  their  qualities,  powers,  causes,  consequences,  and 
relations,  &c.,  till  all  be  perfectly  known  that  is  in  them, 
or  can  any  way  relate  to  them ;  and  thus  frame  the  idea 
of  infinite  or  boundless  knowledge.     The  same  may 
also  be  done  of  power,  till  we  come  to  that  we  call 
"  infinite ;  "  and  also  of  the  duration  of  existence  with- 
out beginning  or  end;  and  so  frame  the  idea  of  an 
eternal   being.     The  degrees   or  extent,   wherein  we 
ascribe  existence,  power,  wisdom,  and  all  other  per- 
fections  (which  we  can  have  any  ideas  of),  to  that 
Sovereign    Being   which    we   call    "  God,"   being   all 
boundless  and  infinite,  we  frame  the  best  idea  of  him 
our  minds  are  capable  of:  all  which  is  done,  I  say, 
by  enlarging  those  simple  ideas  we  have  taken  from 
the  operations  of  our  own  minds  by  reflection,  or  by 
our  senses  from  exterior  things,  to  that  vastness  to 
which  infinity  can  extend  them. 

35.  Idea  of  God.—  For  it  is  infinity  which,  joined 
to  our  ideas  of  existence,  power,  knowledge,  &c.,  makes 
that  complex  idea  whereby  we  represent  to  ourselves, 


OF  OUR  COMPLEX  IDEAS  OF  SUBSTANCES.     221 

the  best  we  can,  the  Supreme  Being.  For  though  in 
his  own  essence,  which  certainly  we  do  not  know  (not 
knowing  the  real  essence  of  a  pebble,  or  a  fly,  or  of  our 
own  selves),  God  be  simple  and  uncompounded ;  yet, 
I  think,  I  may  say  we  have  no  other  idea  of  him  but 
a  complex  one  of  existence,  knowledge,  power,  happi- 
ness, &c.,  infinite  and  eternal:  which  are  all  distinct 
ideas,  and  some  of  them  being  relative  are  again  com- 
pounded of  others;  all  which,  being,  as  has  been 
shown,  originally  got  from  sensation  and  reflection, 
go  to  make  up  the  idea  or  notion  we  have  of  God. 

36.  No  ideas  in  our  complex  one  of  spirits,  but 
those  got  from  sensation  or  reflection. —  This  farther 
is  to  be  observed,  that  there  is  no  idea  we  attribute  to 
God,  bating  infinity,  which  is  not  also  a  part  of  our 
complex  idea  of  other  spirits.  Because,  being  capable 
of  no  other  simple  ideas  belonging  to  any  thing  but 
body,  but  those  which  by  reflection  we  receive  from  the 
operation  of  our  own  minds,  we  can  attribute  to  spirits 
no  other  but  what  we  receive  from  thence:  and  all 
the  difference  we  can  put  between  them  in  our  con- 
templation of  spirits,  is  only  in  the  several  extents 
and  degrees  of  their  knowledge,  power,  duration,  hap- 
piness, &c.  For  that  in  our  ideas,  as  well  of  spirits 
as  of  other  things,  we  are  restrained  to  those  we  receive 
from  sensation  and  reflection,  is  evident  from  hence, 
that  in  our  ideas  of  spirits,  how  much  soever  advanced 
in  perfection  beyond  those  of  bodies,  even  to  that  of 
infinite,  we  cannot  yet  have  any  idea  of  the  manner 
wherein  they  discover  their  thoughts  one  to  another: 
though  we  must  necessarily  conclude  that  separate 
spirits,  which  are  beings  that  have  perfecter  knowledge 
and  greater  happiness  than  we,  must  needs  have  also 
a  perfecter  way  of  communicating  their  thoughts 


222     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

than  we  have,  who  are  fain  to  make  use  of  corporeal 
signs  and  particular  sounds,  which  are  therefore  of 
most  general  use,  as  being  the  best  and  quickest  we  are 
capable  of.  But  of  immediate  communication  having 
no  experiment  in  ourselves,  and  consequently  no  no- 
tion of  it  at  all,  we  have  no  idea  how  spirits  which 
use  not  words  can  with  quickness,  or,  much  less,  how 
spirits  that  have  no  bodies,  can  be  masters  of  their 
own  thoughts,  and  communicate  or  conceal  them  at 
pleasure,  though  we  cannot  but  necessarily  suppose 
they  have  such  a  power. 

37.  Recapitulation. —  And  thus  we  have  seen  what 
kind  of  ideas  we  have  of  substances  of  all  kinds,  where- 
in they  consist,  and  how  we  came  by  them.  From 
whence,  I  think,  it  is  very  evident. 

First,  That  all  our  ideas  of  the  several  sorts  of  sub- 
stances are  nothing  but  collections  of  simple  ideas, 
with  a  supposition  of  something  to  which  they  belong, 
and  in  which  they  subsist;  though  of  this  supposed 
something  we  have  no  clear  distinct  idea  at  all. 

Secondly,  That  all  the  simple  ideas  that,  thus  united 
in  one  common  substratum,  make  up  our  complex  ideas 
of  several  sorts  of  substances,  are  no  other  but  such 
as  we  have  received  from  sensation  or  reflection.  So 
that  even  in  those  which  we  think  we  are  most  inti- 
mately acquainted  with,  and  that  come  nearest  the  com- 
prehension of  our  most  enlarged  conceptions,  we  cannot 
reach  beyond  those  simple  ideas.  And  even  in  those 
which  seem  most  remote  from  all  we  have  to  do  with, 
and  do  infinitely  surpass  any  thing  we  can  perceive  in 
ourselves  by  reflection,  or  discover  by  sensation  in 
other  things,  we  can  attain  to  nothing  but  those  sim- 
ple ideas  which  we  originally  received  from  sensation 


OF  OUR  COMPLEX  IDEAS  OF  SUBSTANCES.     223 

or  reflection ;  as  is  evident  in  the  complex  ideas  we  have 
of  angels,  and  particularly  of  God  himself. 

Thirdly,  That  most  of  the  simple  ideas  that  make 
up  our  complex  ideas  of  substances,  when  truly  consid- 
ered, are  only  powers,  however  we  are  apt  to  take  them 
for  positive  qualities :  v.  g.,  the  greatest  part  of  the  ideas 
that  make  our  complex  idea  of  gold  are  yellowness, 
great  weight,  ductility,  fusibility,  and  solubility  in 
aqua  regia,  &c.,  all  united  together  in  an  unknown 
substratum;  all  which  ideas  are  nothing  else  but  so 
many  relations  to  other  substances,  and  are  not  really 
in  the  gold  considered  barely  in  itself,  though  they  de- 
pend on  those  real  and  primary  qualities  of  its  inter- 
nal constitution,  whereby  it  has  a  fitness  differently  to 
operate  and  be  operated  on  by  several  other  substances. 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

OF  COLLECTIVE  IDEAS  OF  SUBSTANCES. 

I.  One  idea. —  Besides  these  complex  ideas  of  sev- 
eral single  substances,  as  of  man,  horse,  gold,  violet, 
apple,  &c.,  the  mind  hath  also  "  complex  collective 
ideas  "  of  substances ;  which  I  so  call,  because  such 
ideas  are  made  up  of  many  particular  substances  con- 
sidered together,  as  united  into  one  idea,  and  which 
so  joined  are  looked  on  as  one;  v.  g.,  the  idea  of  such 
a  collection  of  men  as  make  an  army,  though  consist- 
ing of  a  great  number  of  distinct  substances,  is  as  much 
one  idea  as  the  idea  of  a  man :  and  the  great  collective 
idea  of  all  bodies  whatsoever,  signified  by  the  name 
"  world,"  is  as  much  one  idea  as  the  idea  of  any  the 
least  particle  of  matter  in  it ;  it  sufficing  to  the  unity 
of  any  idea,  that  it  be  considered  as  one  representation 


224     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

or  picture,  though  made  up  of  ever  so  many  particu- 
lars. 

2.  Made  by  the  power  of  composing  in  the  mind. 
—  These  collective  ideas  of  substances  the  mind  makes 
by  its  power  of  composition,  and  uniting,  severally, 
either  simple  or  complex  ideas  into  one,  as  it  does  by 
the  same  faculty  make  the  complex  ideas  of  particular 
substances,  consisting  of  an  aggregate  of  divers  simple 
ideas  united  in  one  substance :  and  as  the  mind,  by  put- 
ting together  the  repeated  ideas  of  unity,  makes  the 
collective  mode  or  complex  idea  of  any  number,  as  a 
score,  or  a  gross,  &c.,  so  by  putting  together  several 
particular  substances,  it  makes  collective  ideas  of  sub- 
stances, as  a  troop,  an  army,  a  swarm,  a  city,  a  fleet : 
each  of  which  every  one  finds  that  he  represents  to  his 
own  mind  by  one  idea,  in  one  view ;  and  so  under  that 
notion  considers  those  several  things  as  perfectly  one, 
as  one  ship,  or  one  atom.    Nor  is  it  harder  to  conceive 
how  an  army  of  ten  thousand  men  should  make  one 
idea,  than  how  a  man  should  make  one  idea ;  it  being  as 
easy  to  the  mind  to  unite  into  one  the  idea  of  a  great 
number  of  men,  and  consider  it  as  one,  as  it  is  to  unite 
into  one  particular  all  the  distinct  ideas  that  make  up 
the  composition  of  a  man,  and  consider  them  all  to- 
gether as  one. 

3.  All    artificial     things    are    collective    ideas. — 
Amongst   such    kind   of   collective    ideas,    are    to   be 
counted  most  part  of  artificial  things,  at  least  such  of 
them  as  are  made  up  of  distinct  substances :  and  in 
truth,  if  we  consider  all  these  collective  ideas  aright, 
as  "  army,  constellation,  universe,"  as  they  are  united 
into  so  many  single  ideas,  they  are  but  the  artificial 
draughts  of  the  mind,  bringing  things  very  remote,  and 
independent  on  one  another,  into  one  view,  the  better 


OF  COLLECTIVE  IDEAS  OF  SUBSTANCES.   225 

to  contemplate  and  discourse  of  them,  united  into  one 
conception,  and  signified  by  one  name.  For  there  are 
no  things  so  remote,  nor  so  contrary,  which  the  mind 
cannot,  by  this  art  of  composition,  bring  into  one  idea, 
as  is  visible  in  that  signified  by  the  name  "  universe." 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

OF   RELATION. 

I.  Relation,  what. —  Besides  the  ideas,  whether 
simple  or  complex,  that  the  mind  has  of  things,  as  they 
are  in  themselves,  there  are  others  it  gets  from  their 
comparison  one  with  another.  The  understanding,  in 
the  consideration  of  any  thing,  is  not  confined  to  that 
precise  object:  it  can  carry  any  idea,  as  it  were,  beyond 
itself,  or,  at  least,  look  beyond  it  to  see  how  it  stands 
in  conformity  to  any  other.  When  the  mind  so  con- 
siders one  thing,  that  it  does,  as  it  were,  bring  it  to 
and  set  it  by  another,  and  carries  its  view  from  one  to 
the  other :  this  is,  as  the  words  import,  "  relation  "  and 
"  respect ;"  and  the  denominations  given  to  positive 
things,  intimating  that  respect,  and  serving  as  marks 
to  lead  the  thoughts  beyond  the  subject  itself  denom- 
inated to  something  distinct  from  it,  are  what  we  call 
"  relatives ;"  and  the  things  so  brought  together,  "  re- 
lated." Thus,  when  the  mind  considers  Caius  as  such 
a  positive  being,  it  takes  nothing  into  that  idea,  but 
what  really  exists  in  Caius ;  v.  g.,  when  I  consider  him 
as  man,  I  have  nothing  in  my  mind  but  the  complex 
idea  of  the  species  man.  So  likewise,  when  I  say, 
"  Caius  is  a  white  man,"  I  have  nothing  but  the  bare 
consideration  of  man  who  hath  that  white  colour.  But 
when  I  give  Caius  the  name  "  husband,"  I  intimate 


226     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

some  other  person ;  and  when  I  give  him  the  name 
"  whiter."  I  intimate  some  other  thing :  in  both  cases 
my  thought  is  led  to  something  beyond  Caius,  and  there 
are  two  things  brought  into  consideration.  And  since 
any  idea,  whether  simple  or  complex,  may  be  the  occa- 
sion why  the  mind  thus  brings  two  things  together,  and 
as  it  were,  takes  a  view  of  them  at  once,  though  still 
considered  as  distinct ;  therefore  any  of  our  ideas  may 
be  the  foundation  of  relation.  As  in  the  above-men- 
tioned instance,  the  contract  and  ceremony  of  marriage 
with  Sempronia,  is  the  occasion  of  the  denomination  or 
relation  of  husband ;  and  the  colour  white,  the  occasion 
why  he  is  said  to  be  whiter  than  freestone. 

2.  Relations  without  correlative  terms,  not  easily 
perceived. —  These,  and  the  like  relations,  expressed 
by  relative  terms,  that  have  others  answering  them 
with  a  reciprocal  intimation,  as  "  father  and  son,  big- 
ger and  less,  cause  and  effect,"  are  very  obvious  to 
every  one ;  and  every  body,  at  first  sight,  perceives  the 
relation.  For  "  father  and  son,  husband  and  wife,"  and 
such  other  correlative  terms,  seem  so  nearly  to  belong 
one  to  another,  and,  through  custom,  do  so  readily 
chime  and  answer  one  to  another  in  people's  memories, 
that,  upon  the  naming  of  either  of  them,  the  thoughts 
are  presently  carried  beyond  the  thing  so  named ;  and 
nobody  overlooks  or  doubts  of  a  relation  where  it  is  so 
plainly  intimated.  But  where  languages  have  failed  to 
give  correlative  names,  there  the  relation  is  not  always 
so  easily  taken  notice  of.  "  Concubine  "  is,  no  doubt, 
a  relative  name  as  well  as  "  wife :"  but  in  languages 
where  this  and  the  like  words  have  not  a  correlative 
term,  there  people  are  not  so  apt  to  take  them  to  be  so, 
as  wanting  that  evident  mark  of  relation  which  is  be- 
tween correlatives,  which  seem  to  explain  one  another, 


OF  RELATION.  227 

and  not  to  be  able  to  exist  but  together.  Hence  it  is 
that  many  of  those  names  which,  duly  considered,  do 
include  evident  relations,  have  been  called  "  external 
denominations."  But  all  names,  that  are  more  than 
empty  sounds,  must  signify  some  idea  which  is  either 
in  the  thing  to  which  the  name  is  applied ;  and  then  it 
is  positive,  and  is  looked  on  as  united  to  and  existing 
in  the  thing  to  which  the  denomination  is  given :  or 
else  it  arises  from  the  respect  the  mind  finds  in  it  to 
something  distinct  from  it  with  which  it  considers  it; 
and  then  it  includes  a  relation. 

3.  Some  seemingly  absolute  terms  contain  relations. 
—  Another  sort  of  relative  terms  there  is,  which  are 
not  looked  on  to  be  either  relative  or  so  much  as  ex- 
ternal denominations ;  which  yet,  under  the  form  and 
appearance  of  signifying  something  absolute  in  the 
subject,  do  conceal  a  tacit,  though  less  observable  rela- 
tion.    Such  are  the  seemingly  positive  terms  of  "  old, 
great,  imperfect,"  &c.,  whereof  I  shall  have  occasion  to 
speak  more  at  large  in  the  following  chapters. 

4.  Relation    different   from    the   things   related. — 
This  farther  may  be  observed,  that  the  ideas  of  relation 
may  be  the  same  in  men  who  have  far  different  ideas 
of  the  things  that  are  related,  or  that  are  thus  com- 
pared: v.g.,  those  who  have  far  different  ideas  of  a 
man,  may  yet  agree  in  the  notion  of  a  father:  which 
is  a  notion  superinduced  to  the  substance,  or  man,  and 
refers  only  to  an   act  of  that  thing  called   "  man," 
whereby  he  contributed  to  the  generation  of  one  of  his 
own  kind,  let  man  be  what  it  will. 

5.  Change  of  relation  may  be  without  any  change 
in  the  subject. —  The  nature  therefore  of  relation  con- 
sists in  the  referring  or  comparing  two  things  one  to 
another ;  from  which  comparison  one  or  both  comes 


*z8     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

to  be  denominated.  And  if  either  of  those  things  be 
removed  or  cease  to  be,  the  relation  ceases,  and  the 
denomination  consequent  to  it,  though  the  other  re- 
ceive in  itself  no  alteration  at  all :  v.  g.,  Caius,  whom 
I  consider  to-day  as  a  father  ceases  to  be  so  to-morrow, 
only  by  the  death  of  his  son,  without  any  alteration 
made  in  himself.  Nay,  barely  by  the  mind's  changing 
the  object,  to  which  it  compares  any  thing,  the  same 
thing  is  capable  of  having  contrary  denominations  at 
the  same  time :  v.  g.,  Caius,  compared  to  several  per- 
sons, may  truly  be  said  to  be  older  and  younger, 
stronger  and  weaker,  &c. 

6.  Relation  only  betwixt  two  things. —  Whatsoever 
doth  or  can  exist,  or  be  considered  as  one  thing,  is 
positive:  and  so  not  only  simple  ideas  and  substances, 
but  modes  also,  are  positive  beings:  though  the  parts 
of  which  they  consist  are  very  often  relative  one  to 
another;   but  the  whole  together  considered   as  one 
thing,  and  producing  in  us  the  complex  idea  of  one 
thing,   which   idea   is   in  our  minds  as   one  picture, 
though  an  aggregate  of  divers  parts  and  under  one 
name,  it  is  a  positive  or  absolute  thing  or  idea.    Thus 
a  triangle,  though  the  parts  thereof,  compared  one  to 
another,  be  relative,  yet  the  idea  of  the  whole  is  a 
positive  absolute  idea.     The  same  may  be  said  of  a 
family,  a  tune,  &c.,  for  there  can  be  no  relation  but 
betwixt  two  things,  considered  as  two  things.     There 
must  always  be  in  relation  two  ideas,  or  things,  either 
in  themselves  really  separate,  or  considered  as  distinct, 
and  then  a  ground  or  occasion  for  their  comparison. 

7.  All  things  capable  of  relation. —  Concerning  re- 
lation in  general,  these  things  may  be  considered. 

First,  That  there  is  no  one  thing,  whether  simple 
idea,  substance,  mode,  or  relation,  or  name  of  either  of 


OF  RELATION.  229 

them,  which  is  not  capable  of  almost  an  infinite  number 
of  considerations  in  reference  to  other  things ;  and 
therefore  this  makes  no  small  part  of  men's  thoughts 
and  words :  v.  g.}  one  single  man  may  at  once  be  con- 
cerned in  and  sustain  all  these  following  relations,  and 
many  more,  viz.,  father,  brother,  son,  grandfather, 
grandson,  father-in-law,  son-in-law,  husband,  friend, 
enemy,  subject,  general,  judge,  patron,  client,  profes- 
sor, European,  Englishman,  islander,  servant,  master, 
possessor,  captain,  superior,  inferior,  bigger,  less, 
older,  younger,  contemporary,  like,  unlike,  &c.,  to  an 
almost  infinite  number:  he  being  capable  of  as  many 
relations  as  there  can  be  occasions  of  comparing  him 
to  other  things,  in  any  manner  of  agreement,  disagree- 
ment, or  respect  whatsoever:  for,  as  I  said,  relation 
is  a  way  of  comparing  or  considering  two  things  to- 
gether, and  giving  one  or  both  of  them  some  appella- 
tion from  that  comparison,  and  sometimes  giving  even 
the  relation  itself  a  name. 

8.  The  ideas  of  relations  clearer  often  than  of  the 
subjects  related. — Secondly,  This  farther  may  be  con- 
sidered concerning  relation,  that  though  it  be  not  con- 
tained in  the  real  existence  of  things,  but  something 
extraneous  and  superinduced ;  yet  the  ideas  which  rela- 
tive words  stand  for  are  often  clearer  and  more  distinct 
than  of  those  substances  to  which  they  do  belong.  The 
notion  we  have  of  a  father  or  brother  is  a  great  deal 
clearer  and  more  distinct  than  that  we  have  of  a  man : 
or,  if  you  will,  paternity  is  a  thing  whereof  it  is  easier 
to  have  a  clear  idea  than  of  humanity :  and  I  can  much 
easier  conceive  what  a  friend  is  than  what  God.  Be- 
cause the  knowledge  of  one  action,  or  one  simple  idea, 
is  oftentimes  sufficient  to  give  the  notion  of  a  relation : 
but  to  the  knowing  of  any  substantial  being,  an  ac- 


230     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 
\ 

curate  collection  of  sundry  ideas  is  necessary.  A  man, 
if  he  compares  two  things  together,  can  hardly  be  sup- 
posed not  to  know  what  it  is  wherein  he  compares 
them:  so  that  when  he  compares  any  things  together, 
he  cannot  but  have  a  very  clear  idea  of  that  relation. 
The  ideas  then  of  relations  are  capable  at  least  of  being 
more  perfect  and  distinct  in  our  minds  than  those  of 
substances.  Because  it  is  commonly  hard  to  know 
all  the  simple  ideas  which  are  really  in  any  substance, 
but  for  the  most  part  easy  enough  to  know  the  simple 
ideas  that  make  up  any  relation  I  think  on,  or  have 
a  name  for :  v.  g.,  comparing  two  men,  in  reference  to 
one  common  parent,  it  is  very  easy  to  frame  the  ideas 
of  brothers,  without  having  yet  the  perfect  idea  of  a 
man.  For,  significant  relative  words,  as  well  as  others, 
standing  only  for  ideas ;  and  those  being  all  either 
simple,  or  made  up  of  simple  ones ;  it  suffices  for  the 
knowing  the  precise  idea  the  relative  term  stands  for, 
to  have  a  clear  conception  of  that  which  is  the  founda- 
tion of  the  relation;  which  may  be  done  without  hav- 
ing a  perfect  and  clear  idea  of  the  thing  it  is  attributed 
to.  Thus  having  the  notion  that  one  laid  the  egg  out 
of  which  the  other  was  hatched,  I  have  a  clear  idea  of 
the  relation  of  dam  and  chick  between  the  two  cas- 
siowaries  in  St.  James's  Park ;  though,  perhaps,  I  have 
but  a  very  obscure  and  imperfect  idea  of  those  birds 
themselves. 

9.  Relations  all  terminate  in  simple  ideas. — Thirdly, 
Though  there  be  a  great  number  of  considerations 
wherein  things  may  be  compared  one  with  another, 
and  so  a  multitude  of  relations ;  yet  they  all  terminate 
in,  and  are  concerned  about,  those  simple  ideas  either 
of  sensation  or  reflection,  which  I  think  to  be  the 
whole  materials  of  all  our  knowledge.  To  clear  this, 


OF  RELATION.  231 

I  shall  show  it  in  the  most  considerable  relations  that 
we  have  any  notion  of;  and  in  some  that  seem  to  be 
the  most  remote  from  sense  of  reflection:  which  yet 
will  appear  to  have  their  ideas  from  thence,  and  leave 
it  past  doubt,  that  the  notions  we  have  of  them  are  but 
certain  simple  ideas,  and  so  originally  derived  from 
sense  or  reflection. 

10.  Terms  leading  the   mind   beyond   the  subject 
denominated    are   relative. —  Fourthly,    That    relation 
being   the    considering   of   one    thing   with    another, 
which  is  extrinsical  to  it,  it  is  evident  that  all  words 
that  necessarily  lead  the  mind  to  any  other  ideas  than 
are  supposed  really  to  exist  in  that  thing  to  which  the 
word   is   applied,    are   relative   words :   v.  g.,   a   man, 
black,    merry,    thoughtful,   thirsty,   angry,    extended; 
these  and  the  like  are  all  absolute,  because  they  neither 
signify  nor  intimate  any  thing  but  what  does  or  is 
supposed  really  to  exist  in  the  man  thus  denominated : 
but  father,  brother,  king,  husband,  blacker,  merrier, 
&c.,  are  words  which,  together  with  the  thing  they 
denominate,  imply  also  something  else  separate,  and 
exterior  to  the  existence  of  that  thing. 

11.  Conclusion. —  Having  laid   down  these   prem- 
ises concerning  relation  in  general,  I  shall  now  pro- 
ceed to  show  in  some  instances,  how  all  the  ideas  we 
have  of  relation  are  made  up,  as  the  others  are,  only 
of  simple  ideas;   and  that  they  all,  how  refined  or 
remote  from  sense  soever  they  seem,  terminate  at  last 
in  simple  ideas.     I  shall  begin  with  the  most  compre- 
hensive relation,  wherein  all   things  that  do  or  can 
exist  are  concerned ;  and  that  is  the  relation  of  cause 
and  effect.     The  idea  whereof,  how  derived  from  the 
two   fountains  of  all   our   knowledge,   sensation  and 
reflection,  I  shall  in  the  next  place  consider. 


232     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 
CHAPTER  XXVI. 

OF  CAUSE  AND  EFFECT  AND  OTHER  RELATIONS. 

1.  Whence  their  ideas  got. —  In  the  notice  that  our 
senses  take  of  the  constant  vicissitude  of  things,  we 
cannot  but  observe  that  several  particular  both  qual- 
ities and  substances  begin  to  exist;  and  that  they  re- 
ceive this  their  existence  from  the  due  application  and 
operation  of  some  other  being.    From  this  observation 
we  get  our  ideas  of  cause  and  effect.     That  which 
produces  any  simple  or  complex  idea,  we  denote  by 
the  general  name  "  cause ;"  and  that  which  is  pro- 
duced, "  effect."     Thus  finding  that  in  that  substance 
which  we  call  "  wax  "  fluidity,  which  is  a  simple  idea 
that  was  not  in  it  before,  is  constantly  produced  by 
the  application  of  a  certain  degree  of  heat,  we  call  the 
simple  idea  of  heat,  in  relation  to  fluidity  in  wax,  the 
cause  of  it,  and  fluidity  the  effect.     So  also  finding 
that  the  substance,  wood,  which  is  a  certain  collection 
of  simple  ideas  so  called,  by  the  application  of  fire  is 
turned  into  another  substance  called  "  ashes,"  i.  e.,  an- 
other complex  idea,  consisting  of  a  collection  of  simple 
ideas,  quite  different  from  that  complex  idea  which 
we  call  "  wood,"  we  consider  fire,  in  relation  to  ashes, 
as  cause,  and  the  ashes,  as  effect.    So  that  whatever  is 
considered  by  us  to  conduce  or  operate  to  the  produc- 
ing any  particular  simple  idea,  or  collection  of  simple 
ideas,  whether  substance  or  mode,  which  did  not  be- 
fore exist,  hath  thereby  in  our  minds  the  relation  of 
a  cause,  and  so  is  denominated  by  us. 

2.  Creation,  generation,  making,  alteration. —  Hav- 
ing thus,  from  what  our  senses  are  able  to  discover 
in  the  operations  of  bodies  on  one  another,  got  the 


OF  CAUSE  AND  EFFECT.  233 

notion  of  cause  and  effect,  viz.,  that  a  cause  is  that 
which  makes  any  other  thing,  either  simple  idea,  sub- 
stance, or  mode,  begin  to  be,  and  an  effect  is  that 
which  had  its  beginning  from  some  other  thing,  the 
mind  finds  no  great  difficulty  to  distinguish  the  several 
originals  of  things  into  two  sorts : — 

First,  When  the  thing  is  wholly  made  new,  so  that 
no  part  thereof  did  ever  exist  before ;  as  when  a  new 
particle  of  matter  doth  begin  to  exist,  in  rerum  natura, 
which  had  before  no  being :  and  this  we  call  "  creation." 

Secondly,  When  a  thing  is  made  up  of  particles 
which  did  all  of  them  before  exist,  but  that  very  thing 
so  constituted  of  pre-existing  particles,  which,  con- 
sidered all  together,  make  up  such  a  collection  of 
simple  ideas,  had  not  any  existence  before  as  this  man, 
this  egg,  rose,  or  cherry,  &c.  And  this,  when  referred 
to  a  substance  produced  in  the  ordinary  course  of 
nature  by  an  internal  principle,  but  set  on  work  by 
and  received  from  some  external  agent  or  cause,  and 
working  by  insensible  ways  which  we  perceive  not, 
we  call  "  generation."  When  the  cause  is  extrinsical, 
and  the  effect  produced  by  a  sensible  separation  or 
juxtaposition  of  discernible  parts,  we  call  it  "  mak- 
ing;" and  such  are  all  artificial  things.  When  any 
simple  idea  is  produced  which  was  not  in  that  sub- 
ject before,  we  call  it  "  alteration."  Thus  a  man  is 
generated,  a  picture  made,  and  either  of  them  altered, 
when  any  new  sensible  quality  or  simple  idea  is  pro- 
duced in  either  of  them,  which  was  not  there  before; 
and  the  things  thus  made  to  exist,  which  were  not 
there  before,  are  effects ;  and  those  things  which  oper- 
ated to  the  existence,  causes.  In  which,  and  all  other 
cases,  we  may  observe,  that  the  notion  of  cause  and 
effect  has  its  rise  from  ideas  received  by  sensation  or 


234     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

reflection ;  and  that  this  relation,  how  comprehensive 
soever,  terminates  at  last  in  them.  For,  to  have  the 
idea  of  cause  and  effect,  it  suffices  to  consider  any 
simple  idea  or  substance  as  beginning  to  exist  by  the 
operation  of  some  other,  without  knowing  the  manner 
of  that  operation. 

3.  Relations   of  time. —  Time   and  place  are  also 
the  foundations  of  very  large  relations,  and  all  finite 
beings  at  least  are  concerned  in  them.     But  having 
already  shown  in  another  place  how  we  get  those 
ideas,  it  may  suffice  here  to  intimate,  that  most  of  the 
denominations  of  things  received  from  time  are  only 
relations :  thus,  when  any  one  says  that  "  queen  Eliza- 
beth lived  sixty-nine,  and  reigned  forty-five,  years," 
these  words  import  only  the  relation  of  that  duration 
to  some  other,  and  mean  no  more  but  this,  that  the 
duration  of  her  existence  was  equal  to  sixty-nine,  and 
the  duration  of  her  government  to  forty-five,  annual 
revolutions  of  the  sun;  and  so  are  all  words,  answer- 
ing, how  long?    Again :     "  William  the  Conqueror  in- 
vaded England  about  the  year  1066,"  which  means 
this, —  that,  taking  the  duration   from  our  Saviour's 
time  till  now  for  one  entire  great  length  of  time,  it 
shows  at  what  distance  this  invasion  was  from  the 
two  extremes :  and  so  do  all  words  of  time,  answering 
to  the  question  when,  which  show  only  the  distance  of 
any  point  of  time,  from  the  period  of  a  longer  dura- 
tion,   from    which    we    measure,    and    to    which    \ve 
thereby  consider  it  as  related. 

4.  There   are   yet,  besides  those,  other  words  of 
time  that  ordinarily  are  thought  to  stand  for  positive 
ideas,  which  yet  will,  when  considered,  be  found  to  be 
relative,  such  as  are  "  young,  old,"  &c.,  which  include 
and  intimate  the  relation  any  thing  has  to  a  certain 


OF  CAUSE  AND  EFFECT.  235 

length  of  duration,  whereof  we  have  the  idea  in  our 
minds.  Thus  having  settled  in  our  thoughts  the  idea 
of  the  ordinary  duration  of  a  man  to  be  seventy  years, 
when  we  say  a  man  is  young,  we  mean  that  his  age  is 
yet  but  a  small  part  of  that  which  usually  men  attain 
to :  and  when  we  denominate  him  "  old,"  we  mean  that 
his  duration  is  run  out  almost  to  the  end  of  that  which 
men  do  not  usually  exceed.  And  so  it  is  but  com- 
paring the  particular  age  or  duration  of  this  or  that 
man  to  the  idea  of  that  duration  which  we  have  in  our 
minds,  as  ordinarily  belonging  to  that  sort  of  animals : 
which  is  plain  in  the  application  of  these  names  to 
other  things ;  for  a  man  is  called  "  young  "  at  twenty 
years,  and  "  very  young  "  at  seven  years,  old :  but  yet 
a  horse  we  call  "  old  "  at  twenty,  and  a  dog  at  seven, 
years ;  because  in  each  of  these  we  compare  their  age 
to  different  ideas  of  duration,  which  are  settled  in  our 
mind  as  belonging  to  these  several  sorts  of  animals, 
in  the  ordinary  course  of  nature.  But  the  sun  and 
stars,  though  they  have  outlasted  several  generations 
of  men,  we  call  not  "  old,"  because  we  do  not  know 
what  period  God  hath  set  to  that  sort  of  beings :  this 
term  belonging  properly  to  those  things  which  we  can 
observe,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  things,  by  a  natural 
decay,  to  come  to  an  end  in  a  certain  period  of  time: 
and  so  have  in  our  minds,  as  it  were,  a  standard,  to 
which  we  can  compare  the  several  parts  of  their  dura- 
tion; and  by  the  relation  they  bear  thereunto,  call 
them  young  or  old ;  which  we  cannot  therefore  do  to 
a  ruby  or  a  diamond,  things  whose  usual  periods  we 
know  not. 

5.  Relations  of  place  and  extension. —  The  rela- 
tion also  that  things  have  to  one  another  in  their 
places  and  distances,  is  very  obvious  to  observe;  as 


236     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

"  above,  below,  a  mile  distant  from  Charing-Cross,  in 
England,  and  in  London."  But  as  in  duration,  so  in 
extension  and  bulk,  there  are  some  ideas  that  are 
relative,  which  we  signify  by  names  that  are  thought 
positive ;  as  "great "  and  "  little  "  are  truly  relations. 
For  here  also,  having  by  observation  settled  in  our 
mind  the  ideas  of  the  bigness  of  several  species  of 
things  from  those  we  have  been  most  accustomed  to, 
we  make  them,  as  it  were,  the  standards  whereby  to 
denominate  the  bulk  of  others.  Thus  we  call  "  a  great 
apple,"  such  a  one  as  is  bigger  than  the  ordinary  sort 
of  those  we  have  been  used  to :  and  "  a  little  horse," 
such  a  one  as  comes  not  up  to  the  size  of  that  idea 
which  we  have  in  our  minds  to  belong  ordinarily  to 
horses :  and  that  will  be  a  great  horse  to  a  Welshman, 
which  is  but  a  little  one  to  a  Fleming;  they  too  hav- 
ing, from  the  different  breed  of  their  countries,  taken 
several-sized  ideas  to  which  they  compare,  and  in 
relation  to  which  they  denominate,  their  "  great "  and 
their  "  little." 

6.  Absolute  terms  often  stand  for  relations. —  So 
likewise  "  weak  "  and  "  strong  "  are  but  relative  de- 
nominations of  power,  compared  to  some  ideas  we 
have  at  that  time  of  greater  or  less  power.  Thus 
when  we  say  "  a  weak  man,"  we  mean  one  that  has 
not  so  much  strength  or  power  to  move  as  usually 
men  have,  or  usually  those  of  his  size  have ;  which  is 
a  comparing  his  strength  to  the  idea  we  have  of  the 
usual  strength  of  men,  or  men  of  such  a  size.  The 
like  when  we  say,  "  The  creatures  are  all  weak 
things ;"  "  weak,"  there,  is  but  a  relative  term,  signify- 
ing the  disproportion  there  is  in  the  power  of  God  and 
the  creatures.  And  so  abundance  of  words,  in  ordi- 
nary speech,  stand  only  for  relations,  (and  perhaps 


OF  CAUSE  AND  EFFECT.  237 

the  greatest  part),  which  at  first  sight  seem  to  have 
no  such  signification :  v.  g.,  "  The  ship  has  necessary 
stores."  "  Necessary  "  and  "  stores,"  are  both  rela- 
tive words ;  one  having  a  relation  to  the  accomplishing 
the  voyage  intended,  and  the  other  to  future  use.  All 
which  relations,  how  they  are  confined  to  and  ter- 
minate in  ideas  derived  from  sensation  or  reflection, 
is  too  obvious  to  need  any  explication. 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

[OF   IDENTITY   AND   DIVERSITY.] 

I.  [Wherein  identity  consists. —  Another  occasion 
the  mind  often  takes  of  comparing,  is,  the  very  being 
of  things,  when,  considering  any  thing  as  existing  at 
any  determined  time  and  place,  we  compare  it  with 
itself  existing  at  another  time,  and  thereon  form  the 
ideas  of  identity  and  diversity.  When  we  see  any 
thing  to  be  in  any  place  in  any  instant  of  time,  we  are 
sure  (be  it  what  it  will)  that  it  is  that  very  thing,  and 
not  another,  which  at  that  same  time  exists  in  another 
place,  how  like  and  undistinguishable  soever  it  may  be 
in  all  other  respects:  and  in  this  consists  identity, 
when  the  ideas  it  is  attributed  to,  vary  not  at  all  from 
what  they  were  that  moment  wherein  we  consider 
their  former  existence,  and  to  which  we  compare  the 
present.  For  we  never  finding,  nor  conceiving  it  pos- 
sible, that  two  things  of  the  same  kind  should  exist 
in  the  same  place  at  the  same  time,  we  rightly  con- 
clude that  whatever  exists  any  where  at  any  time,  ex- 
cludes all  of  the  same  kind,  and  is  there  itself  alone. 
When  therefore  we  demand  whether  any  thing  be  the 
same  or  no?  it  refers  always  to  something  that  existed 


238     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

such  a  time  in  such  a  place,  which  it  was  certain  at 
that  instant  was  the  same  with  itself  and  no  other: 
from  whence  it  follows,  that  one  thing  cannot  have 
two  beginnings  of  existence,  nor  to  things  one  begin- 
ning, it  being  impossible  for  two  things  of  the  same 
kind  to  be  or  .exist  in  the  same  instant,  in  the  very 
same  place,  or  one  and  the  same  thing  in  different 
places.  That  therefore  that  had  one  beginning,  is  the 
same  thing;  and  that  which  had  a  different  beginning 
in  time  and  place  from  that,  is  not  the  same,  but 
diverse.  That  which  has  made  the  difficulty  about 
this  relation,  has  been  the  little  care  and  attention  used 
in  having  precise  notions  of  the  things  to  which  it  is 
attributed. 

2.  Identity  of  substances.  Identity  of  modes. — 
We  have  the  ideas  but  of  three  sorts  of  substances : 
i.  God.  2.  Finite  intelligences.  3.  Bodies.  First. 
God  is  without  beginning,  eternal,  unalterable,  and 
every  where;  and  therefore  concerning  his  identity, 
there  can  be  no  doubt.  Secondly.  Finite  spirits  hav- 
ing had  each  its  determinate  time  and  place  of  begin- 
ning to  exist,  the  relation  to  that  time  and  place  will 
always  determine  to  each  of  them  its  identity  as  long 
as  it  exists.  Thirdly.  The  same  will  hold  of  every 
particle  of  matter,  to  which  no  addition  or  subtraction 
of  matter  being  made,  it  is  the  same.  For  though 
these  three  sorts  of  substances,  as  we  term  them,  do 
not  exclude  one  another  out  of  the  same  place:  yet 
we  cannot  conceive  but  that  they  must  necessarily  each 
of  them  exclude  any  of  the  same  kind  out  of  the  same 
place :  or  else  the  notions  and  names  of  "  identity  and 
diversity "  would  be  in  vain,  and  there  could  be  no 
such  distinctions  of  substances,  or  any  thing  else,  one 
from  another.  For  example:  Could  two  bodies  be  in 


•* 

OF  IDENTITY  AND  DIVERSITY.  -.& 

the  same  place  at  the  same  time,  then  those  two  parcels 
of  matter  must  be  one  and  the  same,  take  them  great 
or  little;  nay,  all  bodies  must  be  one  and  the  same. 
For  by  the  same  reason  that  two  particles  of  matter 
may  be  in  one  place,  all  bodies  may  be  in  one  place: 
which;  when  it  can  be  supposed,  takes  away  the  dis- 
tinction of  identity  and  diversity,  of  one  and  more, 
and  renders  it  ridiculous.  But,  it  being  a  contradic- 
tion that  two  or  more  should  be  one,  identity  and 
diversity  are  relations  and  ways  of  comparing  well- 
founded,  and  of  use  to  the  understanding.  All  other 
things  being  but  modes  or  relations  ultimately  termin- 
ated in  substances,  the  identity  and  diversity  of  each 
particular  existence  of  them  too  will  be  by  the  same 
way  determined:  only  as  to  things  whose  existence  is 
in  succession,  such  as  are  the  actions  of  finite  beings, 
•u.  g.,  motion  and  thought,  both  which  consist  in  a  con- 
tinued train  of  succession,  concerning  their  diversity 
there  can  be  no  question :  because,  each  perishing  the 
moment  it  begins,  they  cannot  exist  in  different  times, 
or  in  different  places,  as  permanent  beings  can  at  dif- 
ferent times  exist  in  distant  places;  and  therefore  no 
motion  or  thought,  considered  as  at  different  times, 
can  be  the  same,  each  part  thereof  having  a  different 
beginning  of  existence. 

3.  Principium  individuationis. —  From  what  has 
been  said,  it  is  easy  to  discover,  what  is  so  much  in- 
quired after,  the  principium  individuationis;  and  that, 
it  is  plain,  is  existence  itself,  which  determines  a  being 
of  any  sort  to  a  partcular  time  and  place  incom- 
municable to  two  beings  of  the  same  kind.  This, 
though  it  seems  easier  to  conceive  in  simple  substances 
or  modes,  yet,  when  reflected  on,  is  not  more  difficult 
in  compound  ones,  if  care  be  taken  to  what  it  is  ap- 


240     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

plied;  v.  g.,  let  us  suppose  an  atom,  i.  e.,  a  continued 
body  under  one  immutable  superficies,  existing  in  a 
determined  time  and  place;  it  is  evident,  that,  con- 
sidered in  any  instant  of  its  existence,  it  is,  in  that 
instant,  the  same  with  itself.  For,  being  at  that  in- 
stant what  it  is  and  nothing  else,  it  is  the  same,  and 
so  must  continue  as  long  as  its  existence  is  continued ; 
for  so  long  it  will  be  the  same  and  no  other.  In  like 
manner,  if  two  or  more  atoms  be  joined  together  into 
the  same  mass,  every  one  of  those  atoms  will  be  the 
same,  by  the  foregoing  rule:  and  whilst  they  exist 
united  together,  the  mass,  consisting  of  the  same 
atoms,  must  be  the  same  mass,  or  the  same  body,  let 
the  parts  be  ever  so  differently  jumbled :  but  if  one  of 
these  atoms  be  taken  away,  or  one  new  one  added,  it 
is  no  longer  the  same  mass,  or  the  same  body.  In 
the  state  of  living  creatures,  their  identity  depends  not 
on  a  mass  of  the  same  particles,  but  on  something  else. 
For  in  them  the  variation  of  great  parcels  of  matter 
alters  not  the  identity;  an  oak,  growing  from  a  plant 
to  a  great  tree,  and  then  lopped,  is  still  the  same  oak : 
and  a  colt,  grown  up  to  a  horse,  sometimes  fat,  some- 
times lean,  is  all  the  while  the  same  horse :  though,  in 
both  these  cases,  there  may  be  a  manifest  change  of 
the  parts;  so  that  truly  they  are  not  either  of  them 
the  same  masses  of  matter,  though  there  be  truly  one 
of  them  the  same  oak,  and  the  other  the  same  horse. 
The  reason  whereof  is,  that,  in  these  two  cases  of  a 
mass  of  matter  and  a  living  body,  identity  is  not  ap- 
plied to  the  same  thing. 

4.  Identity  of  vegetables. —  We  must  therefore 
consider  wherein  an  oak  differs  from  a  mass  of  mat- 
ter ;  and  that  seems  to  me  to  be  in  this :  That  the  one 
is  only  the  cohesion  of  particles  of  matter  any  how 


OF  IDENTITY  AND  DIVERSITY.  241 

united:  the  other  such  a  disposition  of  them  as  con- 
stitutes the  parts  of  an  oak,  and  such  an  organization 
of  those  parts  as  is  fit  to  receive  and  distribute 
nourishment,  so  as  to  continue  and  frame  the  wood, 
bark,  and  leaves,  &c.,  of  an  oak,  in  which  consists  the 
vegetable  life.  That  being  then  one  plant  which  has 
such  an  organization  of  parts  in  one  coherent  body, 
partaking  of  one  common  life,  it  continues  to  be  the 
same  plant  as  long  as  it  partakes  of  the  same  life, 
though  that  life  be  communicated  to  new  particles  of 
matter  vitally  united  to  the  living  plant  in  a  like  con- 
tinued organization,  conformable  to  that  sort  of  plants. 
For  this  organization  being  at  any  one  instant  in  any 
one  collection  of  matter,  is  in  that  particular  concrete 
distinguished  from  all  other,  and  is  that  individual  life 
which  existing  constantly  from  that  moment  both  for- 
wards and  backwards,  in  the  same  continuity  of  in- 
sensibly succeeding  parts  united  to  the  living  body  of 
the  plant,  it  has  that  identity  which  makes  the  same 
plant,  and  all  the  parts  of  it  parts  of  the  same  plant, 
during  all  the  time  that  they  exist  united  in  that  con- 
tinued organization,  which  is  fit  to  convey  that  com- 
mon life  to  all  the  parts  so  united. 

5.  Identity  of  animals. —  The  case  is  not  so  much 
different  in  brutes,  but  that  any  one  may  hence  see 
what  makes  an  animal,  and  continues  it  the  same. 
Something  we  have  like  this  in  machines,  and  may 
serve  to  illustrate  it.  For  example :  what  is  a  watch  ? 
It  is  plain  it  is  nothing  but  a  fit  organization  or  con- 
struction of  parts  to  a  certain  end,  which,  when  a  suffi- 
cient force  is  added  to  it,  it  is  capable  to  attain.  If  we 
would  suppose  this  machine  one  continued  body,  all 
whose  organized  parts  were  repaired,  increased,  or 
diminished,  by  a  constant  addition  or  separation  of  in- 


242     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

sensible  parts,  with  one  common  life,  we  should  have 
something  very  much  like  the  body  of  an  animal,  with 
this  difference, —  that  in  an  animal  the  fitness  of  the 
organization,  and  the  motion  wherein  life  consists,  be- 
gin together,  the  motion  coming  from  within ;  but  in 
machines,  the  force  coming  sensibly  from  without,  is 
often  away  when  the  organ  is  in  order,  and  well  fitted 
to  receive  it. 

6.  Identity  of  wan. —  This  also  shows  wherein  the 
identity  of  the  same  man  consists ;  viz.,  in  nothing  but 
a  participation  of  the  same  continued  life  by  constantly 
fleeting  particles  of  matter,  in  succession  vitally  united 
to  the  same  organized  body.  He  that  shall  place  the 
identity  of  man  in  any  thing  else  but,  like  that  of  other 
animals,  in  one  fitly  organized  body,  taken  in  any  one 
instant,  and  from  thence  continued  under  one  organi- 
zation of  life  in  several  successively  fleeting  particles 
of  matter  united  to  it,  will  find  it  hard  to  make  an 
embryo,  one  of  years,  mad,  and  sober,  the  same  man, 
by  any  supposition  that  will  not  make  it  possible  for 
Seth,  Ismael,  Socrates,  Pilate,  St.  Austin,  and  Caesar 
Borgia,  to  be  the  same  man.  For  if  the  identity  of 
soul  alone  makes  the  same  man,  and  there  be  nothing 
in  the  nature  of  matter  why  the  same  individual  spirit 
may  not  be  united  to  different  bodies  it  will  be  possible 
that  those  men  living  in  distant  ages,  and  of  different 
tempers,  may  have  been  the  same  man :  which  way  of 
speaking  must  be  from  a  very  strange  use  of  the  word 
"  man,"  applied  to  an  idea  out  of  which  body  and 
shape  is  excluded:  and  that  way  of  speaking  would 
agree  yet  worse  with  the  notions  of  those  philosophers 
who  allow  of  transmigration,  and  are  of  opinion  that 
the  souls  of  men  may,  for  their  miscarriages,  be  de- 
truded into  the  bodies  of  beasts,  as  fit  habitations,  with 


OF  IDENTITY  AND  DIVERSITY.  243 

organs  suited  to  the  satisfaction  of  their  brutal  inclina- 
tions. But  yet,  I  think,  nobody,  could  he  be  sure  that 
the  soul  of  Heliogabalus  were  in  one  of  his  hogs, 
would  yet  say  that  hog  were  a  man  or  Heliogabalus. 

7.  Identity  suited  to  the  idea. —  It  is  not  therefore 
unity  of  substance  that  comprehends  all  sorts  of  iden- 
tity, or  will  determine  it  in  every  case :  but,  to  conceive 
and  judge  of  it  aright,  we  must  consider  what  idea  the 
word  it  is  applied  to  stands  for :  it  being  one  thing  to 
be  the  same  substance,  another  the  same  man,  and  a 
third  the   same  person,   if   "  person,   man,   and  sub- 
stance," are  three  names  standing  for  three  different 
ideas;  for  such  as  is  the  idea  belonging  to  that  name, 
such  must  be  the  identity :  which,  if  it  had  been  a  little 
more  carefully  attended  to,  would  possibly  have  pre- 
vented a  great  deal  of  that  confusion  which  often 
occurs  about  this  matter,  with  no  small  seeming  diffi- 
culties, especially  concerning  personal  identity,  which 
therefore  we  shall  in  the  next  place  a  little  consider. 

8.  Same  man. —  An  animal  is  a  living  organized 
body;  and  consequently  the  same  animal,  as  we  have 
observed,  is  the  same  continued  life  communicated  to 
different  particles  of  matter,  as  they  happen  succes- 
sively  to   be   united  to   that   organized   living  body. 
And,    whatever    is    talked    of    other    definitions,    in- 
genious observations  puts  it  past  doubt,  that  the  idea 
in   our  minds,  of  which   the  sound   "  man,"   in  our 
mouths  is  the  sign,  is  nothing  else  but  of  an  animal  of 
such  a  certain  form :  since  I  think  I  may  be  confident, 
that  whoever  should  see  a  creature  of  his  own  shape 
or  make,  though  it  had  no  more  reason  all  its  life 
than  a  cat  or  a  parrot,  would  call  him  still  a  "  man ;  " 
or  whoever  should  hear  a  cat  or  a  parrot  discourse, 
reason,  and  philosophize,  would  call  or  think  it  noth- 


244     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

ing  but  a  cat  or  a  parrot ;  and  say,  the  one  was  a  dull 
irrational  man,  and  the  other  a  very  intelligent  rational 
parrot.  A  relation  we  have  in  an  author  of  great  note, 
is  sufficient  to  countenance  the  supposition  of  a 
rational  parrot.  [A  relation  we  have  in  an  author  of 
great  note,  is  sufficient  to  countenance  the  supposition 
rational  parrot.  His  words  are, — 

"  I  had  a  mind  to  know  from  prince  Maurice's  own 
mouth,  the  account  of  a  common,  but  much  credited 
story,  that  I  had  heard  so  often  from  many  others  of 
an  old  parrot  he  had  in  Brazil,  during  his  government 
there,  that  spoke,  and  asked  and  answered  common 
questions,  like  a  reasonable  creature;  so  that  those  of 
his  train  there  generally  concluded  it  to  be  witchery 
or  possession ;  and  one  of  his  chaplains  who  lived  long 
afterwards  in  Holland,  would  never  from  that  time 
endure  a  parrot,  but  said  they  all  had  a  devil  in  them. 
I  had  heard  many  particulars  of  this  story,  and  as- 
severed  by  people  hard  to  be  discredited,  which  made 
me  ask  prince  Maurice  what  there  was  of  it.  He  said, 
with  his  usual  plainness  and  dryness  in  talk,  there  was 
something  true,  but  a  great  deal  false,  of  what  had 
been  reported.  I  desired  to  know  of  him  what  there 
was  of  the  first?  He  told  me  short  and  coldly,  that 
he  had  heard  of  such  an  old  parrot  when  he  had  been  at 
Brazil;  and  though  he  believed  nothing  of  it,  and  it 
was  a  good  way  off,  yet  he  had  so  much  curiosity  as 
to  send  for  it :  that  it  was  a  very  great  and  a  very  old 
one;  and  when  it  came  first  into  the  room  where  the 
prince  was,  with  a  great  many  Dutchmen  about  him, 
it  said  presently,  '  What  a  company  of  white  men  are 
here  ? '  They  asked  it  what  he  thought  that  man  was, 
pointing  at  the  prince?  It  answered,  'Some  general 
or  other/  When  they  brought  it  close  to  him,  he 


OF  IDENTITY  AND  DIVERSITY.  245 

asked  it,  D'ou  venez-vousf  It  answered,  De  Marinnan. 
The  prince, —  A  qui  estes-vousf  The  parrot, —  A  un 
Portugais.  Prince, —  Que  fais-tu  la?  Parrot, —  Je 
garde  les  poules.  The  prince  laughed,  and  said,  Vous 
gardes  les  poules?  The  parrot  answered,  Ouy,  moy, 
et  je  s$ai  bien  faire;  and  made  the  chuck  four  or  five 
times  that  people  use  to  make  to  chickens  when  they 
call  them.*  I  set  down  the  words  of  this  worthy 
dialogue  in  French,  just  as  prince  Maurice  said  them 
to  me.  I  asked  him  in  what  language  the  parrot 
spoke?  and  he  said,  In  Brazilian;  I  asked  whether  he 
understood  Brazilian  ?  He  said,  No :  but  he  had  taken 
care  to  have  two  interpreters  by  him,  the  one  a  Dutch- 
man that  spoke  Brazilian,  and  the  other  a  Brazilian 
that  spoke  Dutch ;  that  he  asked  them  separately  and 
privately,  and  both  of  them  agreed  in  telling  him  just 
the  same  thing  that  the  parrot  had  said.  I  could  not 
but  tell  this  odd  story,  because  it  is  so  much  out  of  the 
way,  and  from  the  first  hand,  and  what  may  pass  for  a 
good  one;  for  I  dare  say  this  prince,  at  least,  believed 
himself  in  all  he  told  me,  having  ever  passed  -for  a  very 
honest  and  pious  man.  I  leave  it.  to  naturalists  to 
reason,  and  to  other  men  to  believe,  as  they  please 
upon  it;  however,  it  is  not  perhaps  amiss  to  relieve  or 
enliven  a  busy  scene  sometimes  with  such  digressions, 
whether  to  the  purpose  or  no."  f 
I  have  taken  care  that  the  reader  should  have  the 


*"'  Whence  came  ye?'  It  answered,  'From  Marinnan.' 
The  PRINCE, — 'To  whom  do  you  belong?'  The  PARROT, — To 
a  Portuguese.'  PRINCE, — 'What  do  you  there?'  PARROT, — 'I 
look  after  the  chickens.'  The  PRINCE  laughed  and  said,  '  You 
look  after  the  chickens  ? '  The  PARROT  answered,  '  Yes,  I, 
and  I  know  well  enough  how  to  do  it.' " 

t "  Memoirs  of  what  passed  in  Christendom,  from  1672  to 
1679." 


246     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

story  at  large  in  the  author's  own  words,  because  he 
seems  to  me  not  to  have  thought  it  incredible;  for  it 
cannot  be  imagined  that  so  able  a  man  as  he,  who  had 
sufficiency  enough  to  warrant  all  the  testimonies  he 
gives  of  himself,  should  take  so  much  pains,  in  a  place 
where  it  had  nothing  to  do,  to  pin  so  close  —  not  only 
on  a  man  whom  he  mentions  as  his  friend,  but  on  a 
prince,  in  whom  he  acknowledges  very  great  honesty 
and  piety  —  a  story  which,  if  he  himself  thought  in- 
credible, he  could  not  but  also  think  ridiculous.  The 
prince,  it  is  plain,  who  vouches  this  story,  and  our 
author,  who  relates  it  from  him,  both  of  them  call 
this  talker  "  a  parrot ;"  and  I  ask  any  one  else,  who 
thinks  such  a  story  fit  to  be  told,  whether  if  this  par- 
rot, and  all  of  its  kind,  had  always  talked,  as  we  have 
a  prince's  word  for  it,  as  this  one  did ;  whether,  I  say, 
they  would  not  have  passed  for  a  race  of  rational 
animals ;  but  yet  whether  for  all  that,  they  would  have 
been  allowed  to  be  men,  and  not  parrots?]  For  I  pre- 
sume it  is  not  the  idea  of  a  thinking  or  rational  being 
alone  that  makes  the  idea  of  a  man  in  most  people's 
sense,  but  of  a  body,  so  and  so  shaped,  joined  to  it; 
and  if  that  be  the  idea  of  a  man,  the  same  successive 
body  not  shifted  all  at  once  must,  as  well  as  the  same 
immaterial  spirit,  go  to  the  making  of  the  same  man. 
9.  Personal  identity. —  This  being  premised,  to  find 
wherein  personal  identity  consists,  we  must  consider 
what  "  person  "  stands  for ;  which  I  think,  is  a  thinking 
intelligent  being,  that  has  reason  and  reflection,  and 
can  consider  itself  as  itself,  the  same  thinking  thing, 
in  different  times  and  places;  which  it  does  only  by 
that  consciousness  which  is  inseparable  from  thinking, 
and  it  seems  to  me  essential  to  it :  it  being  impossible 
for  any  one  to  perceive,  without  perceiving  that  he 


OF  IDENTITY  AND  DIVERSITY.  247 

does  perceive.  When  we  see,  hear,  smell,  taste,  feel, 
meditate,  or  will  any  thing,  we  know  that  we  do  so. 
Thus  it  is  always  as  to  our  present  sensations  and  per- 
ceptions :  and  by  this  every  one  is  to  himself  that  which 
he  calls  "self;"  it  not  being  considered,  in  this  case, 
whether  the'  same  self  be  continued  in  the  same  or 
diverse  substances.  For  since  consciousness  always 
accompanies  thinking,  and  it  is  that  that  makes  every 
one  to  be  what  he  calls  "  self,"  and  thereby  distin- 
guishes himself  from  all  other  thinking  things ;  in  this 
alone  consists  personal  identity,  ie.,  the  sameness  of 
a  rational  being:  and  as  far  as  this  consciousness  can 
be  extended  backwards  to  any  past  action  or  thought, 
so  far  reaches  the  identity  of  that  person ;  it  is  the  same 
self  now  it  was  then;  and  it  is  by  the  same  self  with 
this  present  one  that  now  reflects  on  it,  that  that  action 
was  done. 

10.  Consciousness  makes  personal  identity. —  But 
it  is  farther  inquired,  whether  it  be  the  same  identical 
substance?  This,  few  would  think  they  had  reason  to 
doubt  of,  if  these  perceptions,  with  their  consciousness, 
always  remained  present  in  the  mind,  whereby  the 
same  thinking  thing  would  be  always  consciously  pres- 
ent, and,  as  would  be  thought,  evidently  the  same  to 
itself.  B.ut  that  which  seems  to  make  the  difficulty  is 
this,  that  this  consciousness  being  interrupted  always 
by  forgetfulness,  there  being  no  moment  of  our  lives 
wherein  we  have  the  whole  train  of  all  our  past  actions 
before  our  eyes  in  one  view :  but  even  the  best  mem- 
ories losing  the  sight  of  one  part  whilst  they  are  view- 
ing another;  and  we  sometimes,  and  that  the  greatest 
part  of  our  lives,  not  reflecting  on  our  past  selves, 
being  intent  on  our  present  thoughts,  and,  in  sound 
sleep,  having  no  thoughts  at  all,  or,  at  least,  none  with 


248      CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

that  consciousness  which  remarks  our  waking- 
thoughts:  I  say,  in  all  these  cases,  our  consciousness 
being  interrupted,  and  we  losing  the  sight  of  our  past 
selves,  doubts  are  raised  whether  we  are  the  same 
thinking  thing,  i.  e.,  the  same  substance,  or  no  ?  which, 
however  reasonable  or  unreasonable,  concerns  not  per- 
sonal identity  at  all:  the  question  being,  what  makes 
the  same  person  ?  and  not,  whether  it  be  the  same  iden- 
tical substance  which  always  thinks  in  the  same  per- 
son? which  in  this  case  matters  not  at  all;  different 
substances,  by  the  same  consciousness  (where  they  do 
partake  in  it),  being  united  into  one  person,  as  well 
as  different  bodies  by  the  same  life  are  united  into  one 
animal,  whose  identity  is  preserved,  in  that  change  of 
substance,  by  the  unity  of  one  continued  life.  For  it 
being  the  same  consciousness  that  makes  a  man  be  him- 
self to  himself,  personal  identity  depends  on  that  only, 
whether  it  be  annexed  solely  to  one  individual  sub- 
stance, or  can  be  continued  in  a  succession  of  several 
substances.  For  as  far  as  any  intelligent  being  can  re- 
peat the  idea  of  any  past  action  with  the  same  con- 
sciousness it  had  of  it  at  first,  and  with  the  same  con- 
sciousness it  has  of  any  present  action ;  so  far  it  is  the 
same  personal  self.  For  it  is  by  the  consciousness  it 
has  of  its  present  thoughts  and  actions  that  it  is  self  to 
itself  now,  and  so  will  be  the  same  self,  as  far  as  the 
same  consciousnes  can  extend  to  actions  past  or  to 
come ;  and  would  be  by  distance  of  time,  or  change  of 
substance,  no  more  two  persons  than  a  man  be  two 
men,  by  wearing  other  clothes  to-day  than  he  did  yes- 
terday, with  a  long  or  short  sleep  betweeen :  the  same 
consciousness  uniting  those  distant  actions  into  the 
same  person,  whatever  substance  contributed  to  their 
production. 


OF  IDENTITY  AND  DIVERSITY.  249 

11.  Personal  identity  in  change  of  substances. — 
That  this  is  so,  we  have  some  kind  of  evidence  in  our 
very  bodies,  all  whose  particles  —  whilst  vitally  united 
to  this  same  thinking  conscious  self,  so  that  we  feel 
when  they  are  touched,  and  are  affected  by  and  con- 
scious of  good  or  harm  that  happens  to  them  —  are  a 
part  of  ourselves ;  *.  e.,  of  our  thinking  conscious  self. 
Thus  the  limbs  of  his  body  is  to  every  one  a  part  of 
himself :  he  sympathises  and  is  concerned  for  them.  Cut 
off  an  hand  and  thereby  separate  it  from  that  con- 
sciousness he  had  of  its  heat,  cold,  and  other  affec- 
tions, and  it  is  then  no  longer  a  part  of  that  which  is 
himself,  any  more  than  the  remotest  part  of  matter. 
Thus  we  see  the  substance,  whereof  personal  self  con- 
sisted at  one  time,  may  be  varied  at  another,  without 
the  change  of  personal  identity ;  there  being  no  question 
about  the  same  person,  though  the  limbs,  which  but 
now  were  a  part  of  it,  be  cut  off. 

12.  Whether  in  the  change  of  thinking  substances. 
—  But  the  question  is,  Whether,  if  the  same  substance 
which  thinks  be  changed,  it  can  be  the  same  person, 
or  remaining  the  same,  it  can  be  different  persons? 

And  to  this  I  answer,  First,  This  can  be  no  question 
at  all  to  those  who  place  thought  in  a  purely  material, 
animal  constitution,  void  of  an  immaterial  substance. 
For,  whether  their  supposition  be  true  or  no,  it  is  plain 
they  conceive  personal  identity  preserved  in  something 
else  than  identity  of  substance;  as  animal  identity  is 
preserved  in  identity  of  life,  and  not  of  substance. 
And  therefore  those  who  place  thinking  in  an  im- 
material substance  only,  before  they  can  come  to  deal 
with  these  men,  must  show  why  personal  identity  can- 
not be  preserved  in  the  change  of  immaterial  sub- 
stances, or  variety  of  particular  immaterial  substances, 


250     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

as  well  as  animal  identity  is  preserved  in  the  change 
of  material  substances,  or  variety  of  particular  bodies : 
unless  they  will  say,  it  is  one  immaterial  spirit  that 
makes  the  same  life  in  brutes,  as  it  is  one  immaterial 
spirit  that  makes  the  same  person  in  men,  which  the 
Cartesians  at  least  will  not  admit,  for  fear  of  making 
brutes  thinking  things  too. 

13.  But  next,  as  to  the  first  part  of  the  question, 
Whether,  if  the  same  thinking  substance  (supposing 
immaterial  substances  only  to  think)  be  changed,  it 
can  be  the  same  person?  'I  answer,  That  cannot  be 
resolved  but  by  those  who  know  what  kind  of  sub- 
stances they  are  that  do  think,  and  whether  the  con- 
sciousness of  past  actions  can  be  transferred  from  one 
thinking  substance  to  another.  I  grant,  were  the  same 
consciousness  the  same  individual  action,  it  could  not ; 
but  it  being  but  a  present  representation  of  a  past 
action,  why  it  may  not  be  possible  that  that  may  be 
represented  to  the  mind  to  have  been  which  really 
never  was,  will  remain  to  be  shown.  And  therefore 
how  far  the  consciousness  of  past  actions  is  annexed 
to  any  individual  agent,  so  that  another  cannot  pos- 
sibly have  it,  will  be  hard  for  us  to  determine,  till  we 
know  what  kind  of  action  it  is  that  cannot  be  done 
without  a  reflex  act  of  perception  accompanying  it, 
and  how  performed  by  thinking  substances  who  can- 
not think  without  being  conscious  of  it.  But  that 
which  we  call  "  the  same  consciousness  "  not  being  the 
same  individual  act,  why  one  intellectual  substance 
may  not  have  represented  to  it  as  done  by  itself  what 
it  never  did,  and  was  perhaps  done  by  some  other 
agent ;  why,  I  say,  such  a  representation  may  not  pos- 
sibly be  without  reality  of  matter  of  fact,  as  well  as 
several  representations  in  dreams  are,  which  yet,  whilst 


OF  IDENTITY  AND  DIVERSITY.  251 

dreaming,  we  take  for  true,  will  be  difficult  to  conclude 
from  the  nature  of  things.  And  that  it  never  is  so, 
will  by  us  (till  we  have  clearer  views  of  the  nature 
of  thinking  substances)  be  best  resolved  into  the  good- 
ness of  God,  who,  as  far  as  the  happiness  or  misery 
of  any  of  his  sensible  creatures  is  concerned  in  it,  will 
not  by  a  fatal  error  of  theirs  transfer  from  one  to  an- 
other that  consciousness  which  draws  reward  or  pun- 
ishment with  it.  How  far  this  may  be  an  argument 
against  those  who  would  place  thinking  in  a  system  of 
fleeting  animal  spirits,  I  leave  to  be  considered.  But 
yet,  to  return  to  the  question  before  us,  it  must  be 
allowed,  that  if  the  same  consciousness  (which,  as  has 
been  shown,  is  quite  a  different  thing  from  the  same 
numerical  figure  or  motion  in  body)  can  be  transferred 
from  one  thinking  substance  to  another,  it  will  be 
possible  that  two  thinking  substances  may  make  but 
one  person.  For  the  same  consciousness  being  pre- 
served, whether  in  the  same  or  different  substances, 
the  personal  identity  is  preserved. 

14.  As  to  the  second  part  of  the  question,  Whether, 
the  same  immaterial  substance  remaining,  there  may  - 
be  two  distinct  persons  ?  Which  question  seems  to  me 
to  be  built  on  this,  Whether  the  same  immaterial  being, 
being  conscious  of  the  action  of  its  past  duration, 
may  be  wholly  stripped  of  all  the  consciousness  of  its 
past  existence,  and  lose  it  beyond  the  power  of  ever 
retrieving  it  again ;  and  so,  as  it  were,  beginning  a  new 
account  from  a  new  period,  have  a  consciousness  that 
cannot  reach  beyond  this  new  state?  All  those  who 
hold  pre-existence  are  evidently  of  this  mind,  since 
they  allow  the  soul  to  have  no  remaining  consciousness 
of  what  it  did  in  that  pre-existent  state,  either  wholly 
separate  from  body,  or  informing  any  other  body ;  and 


252     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

if  they  should  not,  it  is  plain  experience  would-be 
against  them.  So  that  personal  identity  reaching  no 
farther  than  consciousness  reaches,  a  pre-existent  spirit 
not  having  continued  so  many  ages  in  a  state  of  silence, 
must  needs  make  different  persons.  Suppose  a  Chris- 
tian, Platonist,  or  a  Pythagorean,  should,  upon  God's 
having  ended  all  his  works  of  creation  the  seventh 
day,  think  his  soul  hath  existed  ever  since ;  and  should 
imagine  it  has  revolved  in  several  human  bodies,  as  I 
once  met  with  one  who  was  persuaded  his  had  been 
the  soul  of  Socrates:  (how  reasonably  I  will  not  dis- 
pute: this  I  know,  that  in  the  post  he  filled,  which 
was  no  inconsiderable  one,  he  passed  for  a  very 
rational  man ;  and  the  press  has  shown  that  he  wanted 
not  parts  or  learning:)  would  any  one  say,  that  he, 
being  not  conscious  of  any  of  Socrates's  actions  or 
thoughts,  could  be  the  same  person  with  Socrates? 
Let  any  one  reflect  upon  himself,  and  conclude,  that 
he  has  in  himself  an  immaterial  spirit,  which  is  that 
which  thinks  in  him,  and  in  the  constant  change  of  his 
body  keeps  him  the  same;  and  is  that  which  he  calls 
himself:  let  him  also  suppose  it  to  be  the  same  soul 
that  was  in  Nestor  or  Thersites,  at  the  siege  of  Troy, 
( for  souls  being,  as  far  as  we  know  any  thing  of  them, 
in  their  nature  indifferent  to  any  parcel  of  matter,  the 
supposition  has  no  apparent  absurdity  in  it),  which  it 
may  have  been  as  well  as  it  is  now  the  soul  of  any 
other  man :  but  he  now  having  no  consciousness  of 
any  of  the  actions  either  of  Nestor  or  Thersites,  does 
or  can  he  conceive  himself  the  same  person  with  either 
of  them?  Can  he  be  concerned  in  either  of  their 
actions?  attribute  them  to  himself,  or  think  them  his 
own,  more  than  the  actions  of  any  other  man  that  ever 
existed?  So  that  this  consciousness  not  reaching  to 


OF  IDENTITY  AND  DIVERSITY.  253 

any  of  the  actions  of  either  of  those  men,  he  is  no 
more  one  self  with  either  of  them,  than  if  the  soul  or 
immaterial  spirit  that  now  informs  him  had  been 
created  and  began  to  exist  when  it  began  to  inform 
his  present  body,  though  it  were  never  so  true  that  the 
same  spirit  that  informed  Nestor's  or  Thersites's  body 
were  numerically  the  same  that  now  informs  his.  For 
this  would  no  more  make  him  the  same  person  with 
Nestor,  than  if  some  of  the  particles  of  matter  that 
•  were  once  a  part  of  Nestor  were  now  a  part  of  this 
man ;  the  same  immaterial  substance,  without  the  same 
consciousness,  no  more  making  the  same  person  by 
being  united  to  any  body,  than  the  same  particle  of 
matter,  without  consciousness,  united  ^  to  any  body, 
makes  the  same  person.  But  let  him  once  find  himself 
conscious  of  any  of  the  actions  of  Nestor,  he  then  finds 
himself  the  same  person  with  Nestor. 

15.  And  thus  we  may  be  able,  without  any  diffi- 
culty, to  conceive  the  same  person  at  the  resurrection, 
though  in  a  body  not  exactly  in  make  or  parts  the 
same  which  he  had  here,  the  same  consciousness  going 
along  with  the  soul  that  inhabits  it.  But  yet  the  soul 
alone,  in  the  change  of  bodies,  would  scarce  to  any 
one,  but  to  him  that  makes  the  soul  the  man,  be 
enough  to  make  the  same  man.  For,  should  the  soul 
of  a  prince,  carrying  with  it  the  consciousness  of  the 
prince's  past  life,  enter  and  inform  the  body  of  a 
cobbler,  as  soon  as  deserted  by  his  own  'soul,  every  one 
sees  he  would  be  the  same  person  with  the  prince, 
accountable  only  for  the  prince's  actions :  but  who 
would  say  it  was  the  same  man?  The  body  too  goes 
to  the  making  of  the  man,  and  would,  I  guess,  to 
every  body  determine  the  man  in  this  case,  wherein 
the  soul,  with  all  its  princely  thoughts  about  it,  would 


254     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

not  make  another  man;  but  he  would  be  the  same 
cobbler  to  every  one  besides  himself.  I  know  that,  in 
the  ordinary  way  of  speaking,  the  same  person  and 
the  same  man  stand  for  one  and  the  same  thing.  And, 
indeed,  every  one  will  always  have  a  liberty  to  speak 
as  he  pleases,  and  to  apply  what  articulate  sounds  to 
what  ideas  he  thinks  fit,  and  change  them  as  often  as 
he  pleases.  But  yet,  when  we  will  inquire  what  makes 
the  same  spirit,  man,  or  person,  we  must  fix  the  ideas 
of  spirit,  man,  or  person  in  our  minds;  and  having 
resolved  with  ourselves  what  we  mean  by  them,  it  will 
not  be  hard  to  determine  in  either  of  them,  or  the  like, 
when  it  is  the  same  and  when  not. 

16.  Consciousness  makes  the  same  person. —  But 
though  the  same  immaterial  substance  or  soul  does 
not  alone,  wherever  it  be,  and  in  whatsoever  state, 
make  the  same  man;  yet  it  is  plain,  consciousness,  as 
far  as  ever  it  can  be  extended,  should  it  be  to  ages 
past,  unites  existences  and  actions,  very  remote  in 
time,  into  the  same  person,  as  well  as  it  does  the  exist- 
ences and  actions  of  the  immediately  preceding  mo- 
ment :  so  that  whatever  has  the  consciousness  of  pres- 
ent and  past  actions  is  the  same  person  to  whom  they 
both  belong.  Had  I  the  same  consciousness  that  I  saw 
the  ark  and  Noah's  flood,  as  that  I  saw  an  overflowing 
of  the  Thames  last  winter,  or  as  that  I  write  now,  I 
could  no  more  doubt  that  I  who  write  this  now,  that 
saw  the  Thames  overflowed  last  winter,  and  that 
viewed  the  flood  at  the  general  deluge,  was  the  same 
self,  place  that  self  in  what  substance  you  please,  than 
that  I  who  write  this  am  the  same  myself  now  whilst 
I  write  (whether  I  consist  of  all  the  same  substance, 
material  or  immaterial,  or  no)  that  I  was  yesterday. 
For,  as  to  this  point  of  being  the  same  self,  it  matters 


OF  IDENTITY  AND  DIVERSITY.  255 

not  whether  this  present  self  be  made  up  of  the  same 
or  other  substances,  I  being  as  much  concerned  and 
as  justly  accountable  for  any  action  was  done  a  thou- 
sand years  since,  appropriated  to  me  now  by  this  self- 
consciousness,  as  I  am  for  what  I  did  the  last  mo- 
ment. 

17.  Self  depends  on  consciousness. —  Self  is  that 
conscious  thinking  thing   (whatever  substance  made 
up  of,  whether  spiritual  or  material,  simple  or  com- 
pounded, it  matters  not)  which  is  sensible  or  conscious 
of  pleasure  and  pain,  capable  of  happiness  or  misery, 
and  so  is  concerned  for  itself,  as  far  as  that  conscious- 
ness extends.    Thus  every  one  finds,  that  whilst  com- 
prehended under  that  consciousness,  the  little  finger 
is  as  much  a  part  of  himself  as  what  is  most  so.     Upon 
separation  of  this  little  finger,  should  this  conscious- 
ness go  along  with  the  little  finger,  and  leave  the  rest 
of  the  body,  it  is  evident  the  little  finger  would  be  the 
person,  the  same  person;  and  self  then  would  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  rest  of  the  body.     As  in  this 
case  it  is  the  consciousness  that  goes  along  with  the 
substance,  when  one  part  is  separate  from  another, 
which  makes  the  same  person,  and  constitutes  this  in- 
separable self,  so  it  is  in  reference  to  substances  re- 
mote in  time.     That  with  which  the  consciousness  of 
this  present  thinking  thing  can  join  itself  makes  the 
same  person,  and  is  one  self  with  it,  and  with  nothing 
else ;  and  so  attributes  to  itself  and  owns  all  the  actions 
of  that  thing  as  its  own,  as  far  as  that  consciousness 
reaches,  and  no  farther ;  as  every  one  who  reflects  will 
perceive. 

1 8.  Object  of  reward  and  punishment. —  In  this 
personal  identity  is  founded  all  the  right  and  justice 
of    reward   and    punishment;    happiness    and    misery 


256     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

being  that  for  which  every  one  is  concerned  for  him- 
self, not  mattering  what  becomes  of  any  substance  not 
joined  to  or  affected  with  that  consciousness.  For  as 
it  is  evident  in  the  instance  I  gave  but  now,  if  the  con- 
sciousness went  along  with  the  little  finger  when  it 
was  cut  off,  that  would  be  the  same  self  which  was  con- 
cerned for  the  whole  body  yesterday,  as  making  a  part 
of  itself,  whose  actions  then  it  cannot  but  admit  as  its 
own  now.  Though,  if  the  same  body  should  still  live, 
and  immediately  from  the  separation  of  the  little  ringer 
have  its  own  peculiar  consciousness,  whereof  the  little 
finger  knew  nothing,  it  would  not  at  all  be  concerned 
for  it,  as  a  part  of  itself,  or  could  own  any  of 
its  actions,  or  have  any  of  them  imputed  to  him. 

19.  This  may  show  us  wherein  personal  identity 
consists,  not  in  the  identity  of  substance,  but,  as  I  have 
said,  in  the  identity  of  consciousness;  wherein  if  So- 
crates and  the  present  mayor  of  Queinborough  agree, 
they  are  the  same  person.    If  the  same  Socrates  wak- 
ing and  sleeping  do  not  partake  of  the  same  con- 
sciousness, Socrates  waking  and  sleeping  is  not  the 
same  person ;  and  to  punish  Socrates  waking  for  what 
sleeping  Socrates  thought,  and  waking  Socrates  was 
never  conscious  of,  would  be  no  more  of  right  than  to 
punish    one    twin    for    what    his    brother-twin    did, 
whereof  he  knew  nothing,  because  their  outsides  \vere 
so  like  that  they  could  not  be  distinguished ;  for  such 
twins  have  been  seen. 

20.  But  yet  possibly  it  will  still  be  objected,  "  Sup- 
pose I  wholly  lose  the  memory  of  some  parts  of  my 
life,  beyond  the  possibility  of  retrieving  them  so  that 
perhaps  I  shall  never  be  conscious  of  them  again ;  yet 
am  I  not  the  same  person  that  did  those  actions,  had 
those  thoughts,  that  I  was  once  conscious  of,  though  I 


OF  IDENTITY  AND  DIVERSITY.  257 

have  now  forgot  them  ?  "  To  which  I  answer,  That 
we  must  here  take  notice  what  the  word  "  I "  is  ap- 
plied to ;  which  in  this  case,  is  the  man  only.  And  the 
same  man  being  presumed  to  be  the  same  person,  "  I  " 
is  easily  here  supposed  to  stand  also  for  the  same  per- 
son. But  if  it  be  possible  for  the  same  man  to  have 
distinct  incommunicable  consciousnesses  at  different 
times,  it  is  past  doubt  the  same  man  would  at  differ- 
ent times  make  different  persons ;  which,  we  see,  is  the 
sense  of  mankind  in  the  solemnest  declaration  of  their 
opinions,  human  laws  not  punishing  the  mad  man  for 
the  sober  man's  actions,  nor  the  sober  man  for  what 
the  mad  man  did,  thereby  making  them  two  persons; 
which  is  somewhat  explained  by  our  way  of  speaking 
in  English,  when  we  say,  "  Such  an  one  is  not  himself, 
or  is  beside  himself;"  in  which  phrases  it  is  insinuated 
as  if  those  who  now  or,  at  least,  first  used  them, 
thought  that  self  was  changed,  the  self-same  person 
was  no  longer  in  that  man. 

21.  Difference  between  identity  of  man  and  person. 
—  But  yet  it  is  hard  to  conceive  that  Socrates,  the 
same  individual  man,  should  be  two  persons.  To  help 
us  a  little  in  this,  we  must  consider  what  is  meant  by 
Socrates,  or  the  same  individual  man. 

First,  It  must  be  either  the  same  individual,  im- 
material, thinking  substance:  in  short,  the  same 
numerical  soul,  and  nothing  else. 

Secondly,  Or  the  same  animal,  without  any  regard 
to  an  immaterial  soul. 

Thirdly,  Or  the  same  immaterial  spirit  united  to  the 
same  animal. 

Now,  take  which  of  these  suppositions  you  please, 
it  is  impossible  to  make  personal  identity  to  consist  in 


258     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

any  thing  but  consciousness,  or  reach  any  farther  than 
that  does. 

For  by  the  first  of  them,  it  must  be  allowed  possible 
that  a  man  born  of  different  women,  and  in  distant 
times,  may  be  the  same  man.  A  way  of  speaking 
which,  whoever  admits,  must  allow  it  possible  for  the 
same  man  to  be  two  distinct  persons,  as  any  two  that 
have  lived  in  different  ages,  without  the  knowledge 
of  one  another's  thoughts. 

By  the  second  and  third,  Socrates  in  this  life  and 
after  it  cannot  be  the  same  man  any  way  but  by  the 
same  consciousness ;  and  so,  making  human  identity 
to  consist  in  the  same  thing  wherein  we  place  per- 
sonal identity,  there  will  be  no  difficulty  to  allow  the 
same  man  to  be  the  same  person.  But  then  they  who 
place  human  identity  in  consciousness  only,  and  not 
in  something  else,  must  consider  how  they  will  make 
the  infant  Socrates  the  same  man  with  Socrates  after 
the  resurrection.  But  whatsoever  to  some  men  makes 
a  man,  and  consequently  the  same  individual  man, 
wherein  perhaps  few  are  agreed,  personal  identity  can 
by  us  be  placed  in  nothing  but  consciousness  (which 
is  that  alone  which  makes  what  we  call  "  self  "),  with- 
out involving  us  in  great  absurdities. 

22.  "  But  is  not  a  man  drunk  and  sober  the  same 
person  ?  Why  else  is  he  punished  for  the  fact  he  com- 
'mits  when  drunk,  though  he  be  never  afterwards  con- 
scious of  it  ?  "  Just  as  much  the  same  person  as  a 
man  that  walks  and  does  other  things  in  his  sleep  is 
the  same  person,  and  is  answerable  for  any  mischief 
he  shall  do  in  it.  Human  laws  punish  both  with  a 
justice  suitable  to  their  way  of  knowledge ;  because  in 
these  cases  they  cannot  distinguish  certainly  what  is 
real,  what  counterfeit ;  and  so  the  ignorance  in  drunk- 


OF  IDENTITY  AND  DIVERSITY.  259 

enness  or  sleep  is  not  admitted  as  a  plea.  [For,  though 
punishment  be  annexed  to  personality,  and  personality 
to  consciousness,  and  the  drunkard  perhaps  be  not 
conscious  of  what  he  did;  yet  human  judicatures 
justly  punish  him,  because  the  fact  is  proved  against 
him,  but  want  of  consciousness  cannot  be  proved  for 
him.]  But  in  the  great  day,  wherein  the  secrets  of  all 
hearts  shall  be  laid  open,  it  may  be  reasonable  to  think, 
no  one  shall  be  made  to  answer  for  what  he  knows 
nothing  of;  but  shall  receive  his  doom,  his  conscience 
accusing  or  excusing. 

23.  Consciousness  alone  makes  self. —  Nothing  but 
consciousness  can  unite  remote  existences  into  the  same 
person ;  the  identity  of  substance  will  not  do  it.  For, 
whatever  substance  there  is,  however  framed,  without 
consciousness  there  is  no  person :  and  a  carcass  may  be 
a  person,  as  well  as  any  sort  of  substance  be  so  without 
consciousness. 

Could  we  suppose  two  distinct  incommunicable  con- 
sciousnesses acting  the  same  body,  the  one  constantly 
by  day,  the  other  by  night ;  and,  on  the  other  side,  the 
same  consciousness  acting  by  intervals  two  distinct 
bodies :  I  ask,  in  the  first  case,  whether  the  day  and  the 
night  man  would  not  be  two  as  distinct  persons  as  So- 
crates and  Plato  ?  and  whether,  in  the  second  case,  there 
would  not  be  one  person  in  two  distinct  bodies,  as  much 
as  one  man  is  the  same  in  two  distinct  clothings  ?  Nor 
is  it  at  all  material  to  say,  that  this  same  and  this  dis- 
tinct consciousness,  in  the  cases  above  mentioned,  is 
owing  to  the  same  and  distinct  immaterial  substances, 
bringing  it  with  them  to  those  bodies ;  which,  whether 
true  or  no,  alters  not  the  case :  since  it  is  evident  the 
personal  identity  would  equally  be  determined  by  the 
consciousness,  whether  that  consciousness  were  an- 


260     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

nexed  to  some  individual  immaterial  substance  or  no. 
For,  granting  that  the  thinking  substance  in  man  must 
be  necessarily  supposed  immaterial,  it  is  evident  that 
immaterial  thinking  thing  may  sometimes  part  with 
its  past  consciousness,  and  be  restored  to  it  again,  as 
appears  in  the  forgetfulness  men  often  have  of  their 
past  actions,  and  the  mind  many  times  recovers  the 
memory  of  a  past  consciousness  which  it  had  lost  for 
twenty  years  together.  Make  these  intervals  of  mem- 
ory and  forgetfulness  to  take  their  turns  regularly  by 
day  and  night,  and  you  have  two  persons  with  the  same 
immaterial  spirit,  as  much  as  in  the  former  instance 
two  persons  with  the  same  body.  So  that  self  is  not 
determined  by  identity  or  diversity  of  substance,  which 
it  cannot  be  sure  of,  but  only  by  identity  of  conscious- 
ness. 

24.  Indeed,  it  may  conceive  the  substance  whereof 
it  is  now  made  up  to  have  existed  formerly,  united  in 
the  same  conscious  being :  but,  consciousness  removed, 
that  substance  is  no  more  itself,  or  makes  no  more  a 
part  of  it,  than  any  other  substance;  as  is  evident  in 
the  instance  we  have  already  given  of  a  limb  cut  off, 
of  whose  heat,  or  cold,  or  other  affections,  having  no 
longer  any  consciousness,  it  is  no  more  of  a  man's 
self  than  any  other  matter  of  the  universe.  In  like 
manner  it  will  be  in  reference  to  any  immaterial  sub- 
stance, which  is  void  of  that  consciousness  whereby  I 
am  myself  to  myself:  [if  there  be  any  part  of  its  exist- 
ence which]  I  cannot  upon  recollection  join  with  that 
present  consciousness  whereby  I  am  now  myself,  it  is 
in  that  part  of  its  existence  no  more  myself  than  any 
other  immaterial  being.  For,  whatsoever  any  substance 
has  thought  or  done,  which  I  cannot  recollect,  and  by 
my  consciousness  make  my  own  thought  and  action,  it 


OF  IDENTITY  AND  DIVERSITY.  261 

will  no  more  belong  to  me,  whether  a  part  of  me 
thought  or  did  it,  than  if  it  had  been  thought  or  done 
by  any  other  immaterial  being  any  where  existing. 

25.  I  agree,  the  more  probable  opinion  is,  that  this 
consciousness  is  annexed  to,  and  the  affection  of,  one 
individual  immaterial  substance. 

But  let  men,  according  to  their  diverse  hypotheses, 
resolve  of  that  as  they  please.  This  every  intelligent 
being,  sensible  of  happiness  or  misery,  must  grant,  that 
there  is  something  that  is  himself  that  he  is  concerned 
for,  and  would  have  happy ;  that  this  self  has  existed  in 
a  continued  duration  more  than  one  instant,  and  there- 
fore it  is  possible  may  exist,  as  it  has  done,  months  and 
years  to  come,  without  any  certain  bounds  to  be  set  to 
its  duration;  and  may  be  the  same  self,  by  the  same 
consciousness,  continued  on  for  the  future.  And  thus, 
by  this  consciousness,  he  finds  himself  to  be  the  same 
self  which  did  such  or  such  an  action  some  years  since, 
by  which  he  comes  to  be  happy  or  miserable  now.  In 
all  which  account  of  self,  the  same  numerical  substance 
is  not  considered  as  making  the  same  self :  but  the  same 
continued  consciousness,  in  which  several  substances 
may  have  been  united,  and  again  separated  from  it, 
which,  whilst  they  continued  in  a  vital  union  with  that 
wherein  this  consciousness  then  resided,  made  a  part  of 
that  same  self.  Thus  any  part  of  our  bodies  vitally 
united  to  that  which  is  conscious  in  us,  makes  a  part 
of  ourselves :  but  upon  separation  from  the  vital  union 
by  which  that  consciousness  is  communicated,  that 
which  a  moment  since  was  part  of  ourselves  is  now  no 
more  so  than  a  part  of  another  man's  self  is  a  part  of 
me,  and  it  is  not  impossible  but  in  a  little  time  may 
become  a  real  part  of  another  person.  And  so  we  have 
the  same  numerical  substance  become  a  part  of  two 


162     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

different  persons,  and  the  same  person  preserved  under 
the  change  of  various  substances.  Could  we  suppose 
any  spirit  wholly  stripped  of  all  its  memory  or  con- 
sciousness of  past  actions,  as  we  find  our  minds  always 
are  of  a  great  part  of  ours,  and  sometimes  of  them  all, 
the  union  or  separation  of  such  a  spiritual  substance 
would  make  no  variation  of  personal  identity,  any  more 
than  that  of  any  particle  of  matter  does.  Any  substance 
vitally  united  to  the  present  thinking  being,  is  a  part 
of  that  very  same  self  which  now  is :  any  thing  united 
to  it  by  a  consciousness  of  former  actions,  makes  also 
a  part  of  the  same  self,  which  is  the  same  both  then 
and  now. 

26.  "  Person,"  a  forensic  term. —  "  Person,"  as  I 
take  it,  is  the  name  for  this  self.  Wherever  a  man 
finds  what  he  calls  "  himself,"  there,  I  think,  another 
may  say  is  the  same  person.  It  is  a  forensic  term  ap- 
propriating actions  and  their  merit;  and  so  belongs 
only  to  intelligent  agents  capable  of  a  law,  and  happi- 
ness and  misery.  This  personality  extends  itself  beyond 
present  existence  to  what  is  past,  only  by  conscious- 
ness; whereby  it  becomes  concerned  and  accountable, 
owns  and  imputes  to  itself  past  actions,  just  upon  the 
same  ground  and  for  the  same  reason  as  it  does  the 
present.  All  which  is  founded  in  a  concern  for  happi- 
ness, the  unavoidable  concomitant  of  consciousness; 
that  which  is  conscious  of  pleasure  and  pain  desiring 
that  that  self  that  is  conscious  should  be  happy.  And 
therefore  whatever  past  actions  it  cannot  reconcile  or 
appropriate  to  that  present  self  by  consciousness,  it 
can  be  no  more  concerned  in,  than  if  they  had  never 
been  done :  and  to  receive  pleasure  or  pain,  i.  e.,  reward 
or  punishment,  on  the  account  of  any  such  action,  is 
all  one  as  to  be  made  happy  or  miserable  in  its  first 


OF  IDENTITY  AND  DIVERSITY.  263 

being  without  any  demerit  at  all.  For,  supposing  a 
man  punished  now  for  what  he  had  done  in  another 
life,  whereof  he  could  be  made  to  have  no  conscious- 
ness at  all,  what  difference  is  there  between  that  pun- 
ishment and  being  created  miserable?  And  therefore, 
conformable  to  this,  the  apostle  tells  us,  that  at  the 
great  day,  when  every  one  shall  "  receive  according  to 
his  doings,  the  secrets  of  all  hearts  shall  be  laid  open." 
The  sentence  shall  be  justified  by  the  consciousness  all 
persons  shall  have  that  they  themselves,  in  what  bodies 
soever  they  appear,  or  what  substances  soever  that 
consciousness  adheres  to,  are  the  same  that  committed 
those  actions,  and  deserve  that  punishment  for  them. 

27.  I  am  apt  enough  to  think  I  have,  in  treating  of 
this  subject,  made  some  suppositions  that  will  look 
strange  to  some  readers,  and  possibly  they  are  so  in 
themselves.  But  yet,  I  think,  they  are  such  as  are 
pardonable  in  this  ignorance  we  are  in  of  the  nature  of 
that  thinking  thing  that  is  in  us,  and  which  we  look  on 
as  ourselves.  Did  we  know  what  it  was,  or  how  it  was 
tied  to  a  certain  system  of  fleeting  animal  spirits;  or 
whether  it  could  or  could  not  perform  its  operations  of 
thinking  and  memory  out  of  a  body  organized  as  ours 
is;  and  whether  it  has  pleased  God  that  no  one  such 
spirit  shall  ever  be  united  to  any  but  one  such  body, 
upon  the  right  constitution  of  whose  organs  its  mem- 
ory should  depend,  we  might  see  the  absurdity  of  some 
of  those  suppositions  I  have  made.  But  taking,  as  we 
ordinarily  now  do  (in  the  dark  concerning  these  mat- 
ters), the  soul  of  a  man  for  an  immaterial  substance, 
independent  from  matter,  and  indifferent  alike  to  it  9±l, 
there  can  from  the  nature  of  things  be  no  absurdity  at 
all  to  suppose  that  the  same  soul  may,  at  different 
times,  be  united  to  different  bodies,  and  with  them 


264     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

make  up,  for  that  time,  one  man;  as  well  as  we  sup- 
pose a  part  of  a  sheep's  body  yesterday,  should  be  a 
part  of  a  man's  body  to-morrow,  and  in  that  union 
make  a  vital  part  of  Meliboeus  himself,  as  well  as  it  did 
of  his  ram. 

28.  The  difficulty  from  ill  use  of  names. —  To  con- 
clude :  Whatever   substance  begins  to  exist,   it  must, 
during  its  existence,  necessarily  be  the  same ;  whatever 
compositions  of  substances  begin  to  exist,  during  the 
union  of  those  substances,  the  concrete  must  be  the 
same :  whatsoever  mode  begins  to  exist,  during  its  ex- 
istence it  is  the  same :  and  so  if  the  composition  be  of 
distinct  substances  and  different  modes,  the  same  rule 
holds.     Whereby  it  will  appear,  that  the  difficulty  or 
obscurity  that  has  been  about  this  matter  rather  rises 
from  the  names  ill  used,  than  from  any  obscurity  in 
things  themselves.     For  whatever  makes  the  specific 
idea  to  which  the  name  is  applied,  if  that  idea  be  stead- 
ily kept  to,  the  distinction  of  any  thing  into  the  same 
and  diverse  will  easily  be  conceived,  and  there  can  arise 
no  doubt  about  it. 

29.  Continued  existence  makes  identity. —  For  sup- 
posing a  rational  spirit  be  the  idea  of  a  man,  it  is  easy 
to  know  what  is  the  same  man;  viz.,  the  same  spirit, 
whether  separate  or  in  a  body,  will  be  the  same  man. 
Supposing  a  rational  spirit  vitally  united  to  a  body  of 
a  certain  conformation  of  parts  to  make  a  man,  whilst 
that  rational  spirit,  with  that  vital  conformation  of 
parts,  though  continued  in  a  fleeting  successive  body, 
remains,  it  will  be  the  same  man.     But  if  to  any  one 
the  idea  of  a  man  be  but  the  vital  union  of  the  parts  in 
a  certain  shape,  as  long  as  that  vital  union  and  shape 
remins,  in  a  concrete  no  otherwise  the  same  but  by  a 
continued  succession  of  fleeting  particles,  it  will  be  the 


OF  IDENTITY  AND  DIVERSITY.  265 

same  man.  For,  whatever  be  the  composition  whereof 
the  complex  idea  is  made,  whenever  existence  makes 
it  one  particular  thing  under  any  denomination,  the 
same  existence,  continued,  preserves  it  the  same  in- 
dividual under  the  same  denomination. 


BOOK  IV. 

CHAPTER  I. 

OF   KNOWLEDGE    IN    GENERAL. 

1.  Our  knowledge  conversant  about  our  ideas. — 
Since  the  mind,  in  all  its  thoughts  and  reasonings,  hath 
no  other  immediate  object  but  its  own  ideas,  which  it 
alone  does  or  can  contemplate,  it  is  evident  that  our 
knowledge  is  only  conversant  about  them. 

2.  Knowledge  is  the  perception  of  the  agreement  or 
disagreement  of  two  ideas. —  Knowledge  then  seems  to 
me  to  be  nothing  but  the  perception  of  the  connection  of 
and  agreement,  or  disagreement  and  repugnancy,  of 
any  of  our  ideas.    In  this  alone  it  consists.    Where  this 
perception  is,  there  is  knowledge ;  and  where  it  is  not, 
there,  though  we  may  fancy,  guess,  or  believe,  yet  we 
always  come  short  of  knowledge.    For,  when  we  know 
that  white  is  not  black,  what  do  we  else  but  perceive 
that  these  two  ideas  do  not  agree?    When  we  possess 
ourselves  with  the  utmost  security  of  the  demonstration 
that  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to  two 
right  ones,  what  do  we  more  but  perceive,  that  equality 
to  two  right  ones  does  necessarily  agree  to,  and  is  in- 
separable from,  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle? 

3.  This  agreement  fourfold.— -  But,  to  understand 
a  little  more  distinctly,  wherein  this  agreement  or  dis- 
agreement consists.  I  think  we  may  reduce  it  all  to 

2t>7 


268     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

these  four  sorts:  (i.)  Identity,  or  diversity.  (2.) 
Relation.  (3.)  Co-existence,  or  necessary  connection. 
(4.)  Real  existence. 

4.  First,  Of  identity  or  diversity. —  First,  As  to  the 
first  sort  of  agreement  or  disagreement,  viz.,  identity, 
or  diversity.  It  is  the  first  act  of  the  mind,  when  it  has 
any  sentiments  or  ideas  at  all,  to  perceive  its  ideas,  and, 
so  far  as  it  perceives  them,  to  know  each  what  it  is, 
and  thereby  also  to  perceive  their  difference,  and  that 
one  is  not  another.  This  is  so  absolutely  necessary, 
that  without  it  there  could  be  no  knowledge,  no  reason- 
ing, no  imagination,  no  distinct  thoughts  at  all.  ,By 
this  the  mind  clearly  and  infallibly  perceives  each  idea 
to  agree  with  itself,  and  to  be  what  it  is ;  and  all  distinct 
ideas  to  disagree,  i.  e.,  the  one  not  to  be  the  other :  and 
this  it  does  without  pains,  labour,  or  deduction,  but  at 
first  view,  by  its  natural  power  of  perception  and  dis- 
tinction. And  though  men  of  art  have  reduced  this 
into  those  general  rules,  "3\/That  is,  is ;  "  and,  "  It  is 
impossible  for  the  same  thing  to  be  and  not  to  be,"  for 
ready  application  in  all  cases  where  in  there  may  be 
occasion  to  reflect  on  it;  yet  it  is  certain  that  the  first 
exercise  of  this  faculty  is  about  particular  ideas.  A 
man  infallibly  knows,  as  soon  as  ever  he  has  them  in 
his  mind,  that  the  ideas  he  calls  "  white  "  and  "  round  " 
are  the  very  ideas  they  are,  and  that  they  are  not  other 
ideas  which  he  calls  "  red  "  or  "  square."  Nor  can  any 
maxim  or  proposition  in  the  world  make  him  know  it 
clearer  or  surer  than  he  did  before,  and  without  any 
such  general  rule.  This,  then,  is  the  first  agreement  or 
disagreement  which  the  mind  peceives  in  its  ideas, 
which  it  always  perceives  at  first  sight;  and  if  there 
ever  happen  any  doubt  about  it,  it  will  always  be  found 
tobp  about  the  names,  and  not  the  ideas  themselves, 


OF  KNOWLEDGE  IN  GENERAL.  269 

whose  identity  and  diversity  will  always  be  perceived 
as  soon  and  as  clearly  as  the  ideas  themselves  are,  nor 
can  it  possibly  be  otherwise. 

5.  Secondly,  Relative. —  Secondly,  The  next  sort  of 
agreement  or  disagreement  the  mind  perceives  in  any 
of  its  ideas  may,  I  think,  be  called  "  relative,"  and  is 
nothing  but  the  perception  of  the  relation  between  any 
two  ideas,  of  what  kind  soever,  whether  substances, 
modes,  or  any  other.     For,  since  all  distinct  ideas  must 
eternally  be  known  not  to  be  the  same,  and  so  be  uni- 
versally and  constantly  denied  one  of  another;    there 
could  be  no  room  for  any  positive  knowledge  at  all,  if 
we  could  not  perceive  any  relation  between  our  ideas, 
and  find  out  the  agreement  or  disagreement  they  have 
one  with  another,  in  several  ways  the  mind  takes  of 
comparing  them. 

6.  Thirdly,  Of  co-existence. —  Thirdly,  The  third 
sort  of  agreement  or  disagreement  to  be  found  in  our 
ideas,  which  the  perception  of  the  mind  is  employed 
about,  is  co-existence,  or  non-^o-existence  in  the  same 
subject ;  and  this  belongs  particularly  to  substances. 
Thus  when  we  pronounce  concerning  "  gold  "  that  it  is 
fixed,  our  knowledge  of  this  truth  amounts  to  no  more 
but  this,  that  fixedness,  or  a  power  to  remain  in  the 
fire  unconsumed,  is  an  idea  that  always  accompanies 
and  is  joined  with  that  particular  sort  of  yellowness, 
weight,  fusibility,  malleableness  and  solubility  in  aqua 
regia,  which  make  our  complex  idea,  signified  by  the 
word  "  gold." 

7.  Fourthly,    Of    real    existence. —  Fourthly,    The 
fourth  and  last  sort  is  that  of  actual  real  existence 
agreeing  to  any  idea.  Within  these  four  sorts  of  agree- 
ment or  disagreement  is,  I  suppose,  contained  all  the 
knowledge  we  have  or  are  capable  of;  for,  all  the  in- 


270     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

quiries  that  we  can  make  concerning  any  of  our  ideas, 
all  that  we  know  or  can  affirm  concerning  any  of  them, 
is,  that  it  is  or  is  not  the  same  with  some  other ;  that  it 
does  or  does  not  always  co-exist  with  some  other  idea 
in  the  same  subject;  that  it  has  this  or  that  relation  to 
some  other  idea ;  or  that  it  has  a  .real  existepce^w4thout 
thejQiirid^  Thus,  "  Blue  is  not  yellow,"  is  of  identity. 
"  Two  triangles  upon  equal  bases  between  two  parallels 
are  equal,"  is  of  relation.  "  Iron  is  susceptible  of  mag- 
netical  impressions,"  is  of  co-existence.  "  God  is,"  is 
of  real  existence.  Though  identity  and  co-existence 
are  truly  nothing  but  relations,  yet  they  are  so  peculiar  j 
ways  of  agreement  or  disagreement  of  our  ideas,  that 
they  deserve  well  to  be  considered  as  distinct  heads, 
and  not  under  relation  in  general ;  since  they  are  so  -  ^ 
different  grounds  of  affirmation  and  negation,  as  will  ^ 
easily  appear  to  any  one  who  will  but  reflect  on  what 
is  said  in  several  places  of  this  Essay.  I  should  now 
proceed  to  examine  the  several  degrees  of  our  knowl- 
edge, but  that  it  is  necessary  first  to  consider  the  differ- 
ent acceptations  of  the  word  "  knowledge." 

8.  Knowledge  actual  or  habitual. —  There  are  sev- 
eral ways  wherein  the  mind  is  possessed  of  truth,  each 
of  which  is  called  "  knowledge/ 

First,  There  is  "actual  knowledge/'  which  is  the 
present  view  the  mind  has  of  the  agreement  or  dis- 
agreernent  of  any  of  its  ideas,  or  of  the  relation  they 
.  ha^e  one  to  another. 

Secondly,  A  man  is  said  to  know  any  proposition 
which  having  been  once  laid  before  his  thoughts,  he 
evidently  perceived  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of 
the  ideas  whereof  it  consists ;  and  so  lodged  it  in  his 
memory,  that,  whenever  that  proposition  comes  again 
to  be  reflected  on,  he,  without  doubt  or  hesitation,  em- 


OF  KNOWLEDGE  IN  GENERAL.  271 

braces  the  right  side,  assents  to  and  is  certain  of  the 
truth  of  it.  This,  I  think,  one  may  call  "  habitual 
knowledge ; "  and  thus  a  man  may  be  said  to  know  all 
those  truths  which  are  lodged  in  his  memory  by  a  fore- 
going clear  and  full  perception,  whereof  the  mind  is 
assured  past  doubt  as  often  as  it  has  occasion  to  reflect 
on  them.  For,  our  finite  understandings  being  able  to 
think  clearly  and  distinctly  but  on  one  thing  at  once, 
if  men  had  no  knowledge  of  any  more  than  what  they 
actually  thought  on,  they  would  all  be  very  ignorant; 
and  he  that  knew  most  would  know  but  one  truth,  that 
being  all  he  was  able  to  think  on  at  one  time. 

9.  Habitual  knoivledge  tzvofold. —  Of  habitual 
knowledge  there  are  also,  vulgarly  speaking,  two  de- 
grees : — 

First,  The  one  is  of  such  truths  laid  up  in  the  mem- 
ory as,  whenever  they  occur  to  the  mind,  it  actually 
perceives  the  relation  is  between  those  ideas.  And  this 
is  in  all  those  truths  whereof  we  have  an  intuitive 
knowledge,  where  the  ideas  themselves,  by  an  imme- 
diate view,  discover  their  agreement  or  disagreement 
one  with  another. 

Secondly,  The  other  is  of  such  truths,  whereof  the 
mind  having  been  convinced,  it  retains  the  memory  of 
the  conviction  without  the  proofs.  Thus  a  man  that 
remembers  certainly  that  he  once  perceived  the  demon- 
stration that  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to 
two  right  ones,  is  certain  that  he  knows  it,  because  he 
cannot  doubt  the  truth  of  it.  In  his  adherence  to  a 
truth  where  the  demonstration  by  which  it  was  at  first 
known  is  forgot,  though  a  man  may  be  thought  rather 
to  believe  his  memory  than  really  to  know,  and  this 
way  of  entertaining  a  truth  seemed  formerly  to  me  like 
something  between  opinion  and  knowledge,  a  sort  of 


272     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

assurance  which  exceeds  bare  belief,  for  that  relies  on 
the  testimony  of  another ;  yet,  upon  a  due  examination, 
I  find  it  comes  not  short  of  perfect  certainty,  and  is, 
in  effect,  true  knowledge.  That  which  is  apt  to  mislead 
our  first  thoughts  into  a  mistake  in  this  matter  is,  that 
the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  the  ideas  in  this 
case  is  not  perceived,  as  it  was  at  first,  by  an  actual 
view  of  all  the  intermediate  ideas  whereby  the  agree- 
ment or  disagreement  of  those  in  the  proposition  was 
at  first  perceived ;  but  by  other  intermediate  ideas,  that 
show  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  the  ideas  con- 
tained in  the  proposition  whose  certainty  we  remember. 
For  example :  in  this  proposition,  that  "  the  three  angles 
of  a  triangle  are  equal  to  two  right  ones,"  one  who  has 
seen  and  clearly  perceived  the  demonstration  of  this 
truth,  knows  it  to  be  true,  when  that  demonstration 
has  gone  out  of  his  mind,  so  that  at  present  it  is  not 
actually  in  view,  and  possibly  cannot  be  recollected : 
but  he  knows  it  in  a  different  way  from  what  he  did 
before.  The  agreement  of  the  two  ideas  joined  in  that 
proposition  is  perceived;  but  it  is  by  the  intervention 
of  other  ideas  than  those  which  at  first  produced  that 
perception.  He  remembers,  i.  e.,  he  knows  (for  re- 
membrance is  but  the  reviving  of  some  past  knowl- 
edge) that  he  was  once  certain  of  the  truth  of  this 
proposition,  that  "  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  are 
equal  to  two  right  ones."  The,  jmjputability  jqf  the 
the^same  immutable  things  is 


now  the  idea  that  shows  him,,  that  if  .the  three  angles  of 
a  triangle  were  once  equal  to  two  right  ones,  they  will 
always  be  equal  to  two  right  ones.  And  hence  he 
comes  to  be  certain,  that  what  was  once  true  in  the 
case  is  always  true ;  what  ideas  once  agreed  \\  ill 
always  agree :  and,  consequently,  what  he  once  knew  to 


OF  KNOWLEDGE  IN  GENERAL.  273 

know  to.Jhe..true,  as  long  as  he 

can  xemember  that  he  once  knew  it.  Upon  this  ground 
it  is  that  particulaf~~demonstrations  in  mathematics 
afford  general  knowledge.  If,  then^  the  perception 
4haX.^the  same  ideas  will  eternally  have  the  same  ,  /> 
habitudes  and  relations  be  not  a  sufficient  ground  of  • 
knowledge,  there  could  be  no  knowledge  of  general  '  ^J 
propositions  in  mathematics;  for  no  mathematical 
demonstration  would  be  any  other  than  particular :  and 
when  a  man  had  demonstrated  any  proposition  con- 
cerning one  triangle  or  circle,  his  knowledge  would  not 
reach  beyond  that  particular  diagram.  If  he  would 
extend  it  farther,  he  must  renew  his  demonstration  in 
another  instance  before  he  could  know  it  to  be  true 
in  another  like  triangle,  and  so  on :  by  which  means  one 
could  never  come  to  the  knowledge  of  any  general 
propositions.  Nobody,  I  think,  can  deny  that  Mr. 
Newton  certainly  knows  any  proposition  that  he  now 
at  any  time  reads  in  his  book  to  be  true,  though  he  has 
not  in  actual  view  that  admirable  chain  of  intermediate 
ideas  whereby  he  at  first  discovered  it  to  be  true.  Such 
a  memory  as  that,  able  to  retain  such  a  train  of  particu- 
lars, may  be  well  thought  beyond  the  reach  of  human 
faculties :  when  the  very  discovery,  perception,  and 
laying  together  that  wonderful  connexion  of  ideas  is 
found  to  surpass  most  readers'  comprehension.  But 
yet  it  is  evident  the  author  himself  knows  the  proposi- 
tion to  be  true,  remembering  he  one  saw  the  connexion 
of  those  ideas,  as  certainly  as  he  knows  such  a  man 
wounded  another,  remembering  that  he  saw  him  run 
him  through.  But  because  the  memory  is  not  always 
so  clear  as  actual  perception,  and  does  in  all  men  more 
or  less  decay  in  length  of  time,  this,  amongst  other 
differences,  is  one  which  shows  that  demonstrative 


274      CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

_kno wl H gi^J.s_much  .more  imperfect  than  intuitive,  as 
we  shall  see  in  the  following  chapter. 


CHAPTER  II. 

OF  THE  DEGREES  OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE. 

I.  Intuitive. —  All  our  knowledge  consisting,  as  I 
have  said,  in  the  view  the  mind  has  of  its  own  ideas, 
which  is  the  utmost  light  and  greatest  certainty  we, 
with  our  faculties  and  in  our  way  of  knowledge,  are 
capable  of,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  consider  a  little  the 
degrees  of  its  evidence.  The  different  clearness  of  our 
knowledge  seems  to  me  to  lie  in  the  different  way  of 
perception  the  mind  has  of  the  agreement  or  disagree- 
ment of  any  of  its  ideas.  For  if  we  will  reflect  on  our 
own  ways  of  thinking,  we  will  find  that  sometimes  the 
mind  perceives  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  two 
ideas  immediately  by  themselves,  without  the  interven- 
tion oT  any  other:  andTthis,  I  think,  we  may  call 
"  intuitive  knowledge/*  For  in  this  the  mind  is  at  no 
pains  of  proving  or  examining,  but  perceives  the  truth, 
as  the  eye  doth  light,  only  by  being  directed  towards 
it.  Thus  the  mind__p_erceiYes  that  yhite  is  not  Jilack. 
that  a  circle  is  notjLtn'ang^p,  that  three  are  more  than 
two,  and  equal  to  one  and  two.  Such  kind  of  truths 
the  mind  perceives  at  the  first  sight  of  the  ideas  to- 
gether, by  bare  intuition,  without  the  .interYention  of 
any  other  ideaj  and  this  kind  of  knowledge  is  the 
clearest  and  most  certain  that  human  frailty  is  capable 
of.  This  part  of  knowledge  is  irresistible,  and,  like 
bright  sunshine,  forces  itself  immediately  to  be  per- 
ceived as  soon  as  ever  the  mind  turns  its  view  that 
way;  and  leaves  no  room  for  hesitation,  doubt  or  ex- 


OF  THE  DEGREES  OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE.        275 

animation,  but  the  mind  is  presently  filled  with  the 
clear  light  of  it.  It  is  on  this  intuition  that  depends  all 
the  certainty  and  evidence  of  all  our  knowledge,  which 
certainty  every  one  finds  to  be  so  great,  that  he  cannot 
imagine,  and  therefore  not  require,  a  greater:  for  a 
man  cannot  conceive  himself  capable  of  a  greater  cer- 
tainty, than  to  know  that  any  idea  in  his  mind  is  such 
as  he  perceives  it  to  be ;  and  that  two  ideas,  wherein  he 
perceives  a  difference,  are  different,  and  not  precisely 
the  same.  He  that  demands  a  greater  certainty  than 
this  demands  he  knows  not  what,  and  shows  only  that 
he  has  a  mind  to  be  a  sceptic  without  being  able  to  be 
so.  Certainty  depends  so  wholly  on  this  intuition,  that 
in  the  next  degree  of  knowledge,  which  I  call  "  demon- 
strative," this  intuition  is  necessary  in  all  the  connexions 
of  the  intermediate  ideas,  without  which  we  cannot 
attain  knowledge  and  certainty. 

2.     Demonstrative. —  The  next  degree  of  knowledge 
is,  where  the  mind  perceives  the  agreement  or  disagree-  />  tf^flA^ 
ment   of   any    ideas,   but   not   immediately.     Though  !>•* 
wherever  the  mind  perceives  the  agreement  or  dis-  /" 
agreement  of  any  of  its  ideas,  there  be  certain  knowl-   /•  j  ic  <  I/ 
edge ;  yet  it  does  not  always  happen  that  the  mind  sees        »j^y^- 
that  agreement  or  disagreement  which  there  is  between      \Jr 
them,  even  where  it  is  discoverable;  and  in  that  case   Aj)JAf) 
remains  in  ignorance,  and  at  most  gets  no  farther  than 
a  probable  conjecture.    The  reason  why  the  mind  can- 
not always  perceive  presently  the  agreement  or  dis- 
agreement of  two  ideas,  is,  because  those  ideas  con-  Lt&r 
cerning  whose  agreement  or  disagreement  the  inquiry  . 

is  made,  cannot  by  the  mind  be  so  put  together  as  to     j? 
show  it.     In  this  case  then,  when  the  mind  cannot  so          0 
bring  its  ideas  together  as,  by  their  immediate  compari- 
son and,  as  it  were,  juxtaposition  or  application  one  to 


276     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

another,  to  perceive  their  agreement  or  disagreement, 
it  is  fain,  by  the  intervention  of  other  ideas  (one  or 
more,  as  it  happens),  to_discove.rJ.he..agr.eem£nLQr  dis- 
agreement which  it  search ps ;  and  this  is  that  which  we 
call  "  reasoning."  Thus  the  mind,  being  willing  to 
know  the  agreement  or  disagreement  in  bigness  be- 
tween the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  and  two  right  ones, 
cannot,  by  an  immediate  view  and  comparing  them,  do 
it :  because  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  cannot  be 
brought  at  once,  and  be  compared  with  any  one  or  twro 
angles ;  and  so  of  this  the  mind  has  no  immediate,  no 
intuitive  knowledge.  In  this  case  the  mind  is  fain  to 
find  out  some  other  angles,  to  which  the  three  angles 
of  a  triangle  have  an  equality ;  and  finding  those  equal 
to  two  right  ones,  comes  to  know  their  equality  to  two 
right  ones. 

3.  Depends  on  proofs. —  J^nsp    inte.rvpning- ideas 

which  serve  to  show  the  agreement  of  any  two  others, 
are  called  "  proofs ; "  and  where  the  agreement  or  dis- 
agreement is  by  this  means  plainly  and  clearly  per- 
ceived, it  is  called  "  demonstration,"  it  being  shown  to 
the  understanding,  and  the  mind  made  to  see  that  it  is 
so.     A  quickness  in  the  mind  to  find  out  these  inter- 
mediate ideas   (that  shall  discover  the  agreement  or 
disagreement  of  any  other),  and  to  apply  them  right, 
is,  I  suppose,  that  which  is  called  "sagacity." 

4.  But  not  so  easy. —  This  knowledge  by  interven- 
ing proofs  though  it  be  certain,  yet  the  evidence  of  it  is 
not  altogether  so  clear  and  bright,  nor  the  assent  so 
ready,  as^in^utuitlv^knowledge.    For  though  in  dem- 
onstration the  mind  does  at  last  perceive  the  agreement 
or  disagreement  of  the  ideas  it  considers,  yet  it  is  not 
without  pains  and  attention!  there  must  be  more  than 
one  transient  view  to  find  it.    A  steady  application  and 


OF  THE  DEGREES  OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE.        277 

pursuit  are  required  to  this  discovery:  and  there  must 
be  a  progression  by  steps  and  degrees  before  the  mind 
can  in  this  way  arrive  at  certainty,  and  come  to  per- 
ceive the  agreement  or  repugnancy  between  two  ideas 
that  need  proofs  and  the  use  of  reason  to  show  it. 

5.  Not  without  precedent  doubt. —  Another  differ- 
ence between  intuitive  and  demonstrative  knowledge, 
is,  that  though  in  the  latter  all  doubt  be  removed,  when 
by  the  intervention  of  the  intermediate  ideas  the  agree- 
ment  or   disagreement   is   perceived;  jret   before   the 
demonstration  there  was  a  doubt;  which  in  intuitive 
knowledge  cannot  happen  to  the   mind  that  has  its 
faculty  of  perception  left  to  a  degree  capable  of  distinct 
ideas,  no  more  than  it  can  be  a  doubt  to  the  eye  (that 
can  distinctly  see  white  and  black),  whether  this  ink 
and  this  paper  be  all  of  a  colour.   If  there  be  sight  in 
the  eyes,  it  will  at  first  glimpse,  without  hesitation,  per- 
ceive the  words  printed  on  this  paper,  different  from  the 
colour  of  the  paper:  aad--so,  if  the  mind  have  the 
faculty  of  distinct  perception,  it  will  perceive  the  agree- 
ment or  disagreement  of  those  ideas  that  produce  in- 
tuitive knowledge.    If  the  eyes  have  lost  the  faculty  of 
seeing,  or  the  mind  of  perceiving,  we  in  vain  inquire 
after  the  quickness  of  sight  in  one,  or  clearness  of  per- 
ception in  the  other. 

6.  Not  so  clear. —  It  is  true,  the  perception  pro- 
duced by  demonstration  is  also  very  clear ;  yet  it  is 
often  with  a  greaLabaieaaeat  of  that  evident  lustre  and 
full  assurance  that  always  accompany  that  which  I  call 
"  intuitive ;  "  like  a  face  reflected  by  several  mirrors  one 
to  another,  where,  as  long  as  it  retains  the  similitude 
and  agreement  with  the  object,  it  produces  a  knowl- 
edge ;  but  it  is  still  in  every  successive  reflection  with  a 

'lessening;  of  that   perfect   clearness   and    distinctness 


278     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

which  is  in  the  first,  till  at  last,  after  many  removes,  it 
has  a  great  mixture  of  dimness,  nnd  is  nnf  at  first  night 
so  knowable.  especially  to  weak  eyes.  Thus  it  is  with 
knowledge  made  out  by  a  long  train  of  proof. 

7.  Each  step  must  have  intuitive  evidence. —  Now, 
in  every  step  reason  makes  in  demonstrative  knowl- 
edge, there  is  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  that  agreement 
or  disagreement  it  seeks  with  the  next  intermediate 
idea,  which  it  uses  as  a  proof:  for  if  it  were  not  so, 
that  yet  would  need  a  proof ;  since  without  the  percep- 
tion of  such  agreement  or  disagreement  there  is  no 
knowledge  produced.  If  it  be  perceived  by  itself,  it  is 
intuitive  knowledge :  if  it  cannot  be  perceived  by  itself, 
there  is  need  of  some  intervening  idea,  as  a  common 
measure,  to  show  their  agreement  or  disagreement.  By 
which  it  is  plain,  that  every  step  in  reasoning  that  pro- 
duces knowledge  has  intuitive  certainty;  which  when 
the  mind  perceives,  thexe_is_jiomore  required  but  to 
remember  it,  to  make  the  agreement  or  disagreement 
of  the  ideas,  concerning  which  we  inquire,  visible  and 
certain.  So  that  to  make  any  thing  a  demonstration,  it 
is  necessary  to  perceive  the  immediate  agreement  of  the 
intervening  ideas,  whereby  the  agreement  or  disagree- 
ment of  the  two  ideas  under  examination  (whereof  the 
one  is  always  the  first,  and  the  other  the  last  in  the 
account)  is  found.  This  intuitive  perception  of  the 
agreement  or  disagreement  of  the  intermediate  ideas, 
in  each  step  and  progression  of  the  demonstration,  must 
also  be  carried  exactly  in  the  mind,  and  a  man  must  be 
sure  that  no  part  is  left  out :  which,  because  in  long  de- 
ductions, and  the  use  of  many  proofs,  the  memory  does 
not  always  so  readily  and  exactly  retain ;  therefore,  it 
comes  to  pass,  that  this  is  more  imperfect  than  intuitive 


CX   -*       "~  j 

OF  THE  DEGREES  OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE.        279 

knowledge,    and    men    embrace    often    falsehood    for 
demonstrations. 

8.  Hence  the  mistake,  ex  praecognitis  et  praecon- 
cessis. —  The  necessity  of  this  intuitive  knowledge,  in 
each  step  of  scientifical  or  demonstrative  reasoning, 
gave  occasion,  I  imagine,  to  that  mistaken  axiom,  that 
all     reasoning   was   ex  pracognitis   et   prceconcessis; 
which,  how  far  it  is  a  mistake,  I  shall  have  occasion  to 
show  more  at  large  when  I  come  to  consider  proposi- 
tions,  and  particularly   those  propositions   which  are 
called  "  maxims ;  "  and  to  show  that  it  is  by  a  mistake 
that  they  are  supposed  to  be  the  foundations  of  all  our 
knowledge  and  reasonings. 

9.  Demonstration  not  limited  tq_quQtitUy^-[lt  has 
been  generally  taken   for   granted,   that   mathematics 
alone  are  capable  of  demonstrative  certainty:  but  to 
have  such  an  agreement  or  disagreement  as  may  intui- 
tively be  perceived,  being,  as  I  imagine,  not  the  privi- 
lege of  the  ideas  of  number,  extension,  and  figure 
alone,  it  may  possibly  be  the  want  of  due  method  and 
application   in  us,   and  not  of  sufficient  evidence  in 
things,  that  demonstration  has  been  thought  to  have  so 
little  to  do  in  other  parts  of  knowledge,  and  been  scarce 
so  much  as  aimed  at  by  any  but  mathematicians.]    For, 
whatever  ideas  we  have  wherein  the  mind  can  perceive 
the  immediate  agreement  or  disagreement  that  is  be- 
tween  them,   there  the  mind   is   capable   of  intuitive 
knowledge ;  and  where  it  can  perceive  the  agreement  or 
disagreement  of  any  two  ideas,  by  an  intuitive  percep- 
tion of  the  agreement  or  disagreement  they  have  with 
any  intermediate  ideas,  there  the  mind  is  capable  of 
demonstration,  which  is  not  limited  to  ideas  of  exten- 
sion, figure,  number,  and  their  modes. 

10.  Why  it  has  been  so  thought. —  The  reason  why 


280     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

it  has  been  generally  sought  for  and  supposed  to  be 
only  in  those,  I  imagine,  has  been  not  only  the  general 
usefulness  of  those  sciences,  but  because,  in  comparing 
their  equality  or  excess,  the  modes  of  numbers  have 
every  the  least  difference  very  clear  and  perceivable: 
and  though  in  extension  every  the  least  excess  is  not 
so  perceptible,  yet  the  mind  has  found  out  ways  to 
examine  and  discover  demonstratively  the  just  equality 
of  two  angles,  or  extensions,  or  figures ;  and  both  these, 
*.  e.,  numbers  and  figures,  can  be  set  down  by  visible 
and  lasting  marks,  wherein  the  ideas  under  considera- 
tion are  perfectly  determined ;  which  for  the  most  part 
they  are  not,  where  they  are  marked  only  by  names  and 
words. 

ii.  But  in  other  simple  ideas,  whose  modes  and 
differences  are  made  and  counted  by  degrees,  and  not 
quantity,  we  have  not  so  nice  and  accurate  a  distinction 
of  their  differences  as  to  perceive  or  find  ways  to  meas- 
ure their  just  equality  or  the  least  differences.  For, 
those  other  simple  ideas  being  appearances  of  sensations 
produced  in  us  by  the  size,  figure,  number,  and  motion 
of  minute  corpuscles  singly  insensible,  their  different 
degrees  also  depend  upon  the  variation  of  some  or  all 
of  those  causes ;  which,  since  it  cannot  be  observed  by 
us  in  particles  of  matter  whereof  each  is  too  subtile  to 
be  perceived,  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  have  any  exact 
measures  of  the  different  degrees  of  these  simple  ideas. 
For,  supposing  the  sensation  or  idea  we  name  "  white- 
ness," be  produced  in  us  by  a  certain  number  of 
globules,  which,  having  a  verticity  about  their  own 
centres,  strike  upon  the  retina  of  the  eye  with  a  certain 
degree  of  rotation,  as  well  as  progressive  swiftness ;  it 
will  hence  easily  follow,  that  the  more  the  superficial 
parts  of  any  body  are  so  ordered  as  to  reflect  the 


OF  THE  DEGREES  OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE.       281 

greater  number  of  globules  of  light,  and  to  give  them 
the  proper  rotation  which  is  fit  to  produce  this  sensa- 
tion of  white  in  us,  the  more  white  will  that  body  ap- 
pear that  from  an  equal  space  sends  to  the  retina  the 
greater  number  of  such  corpuscles  with  that  peculiar 
sort  of  motion.  I  do  not  say,  that  the  nature  of  light 
consists  in  very  small  round  globules,  nor  of  whiteness 
in  such  a  texture  of  parts  as  gives  a  certain  rotation  to 
these  globules  when  it  reflects  them ;  for  I  am  not  now 
treating  physically  of  light  or  colours  ;  but  this,  I  think, 
I  may  say,  that  I  cannot  (and  I  would  be  glad  any  one 
would  make  intelligible  that  he  did)  conceive  how 
bodies  without  us  can  any  ways  affect  our  senses,  but 
by  the  immediate  contact  of  the  sensible  bodies  them- 
selves, as  in  tasting  and  feeling,  or  the  impulse  of  some 
sensible  particles  coming  from  them,  as  in  seeing, 
hearing,  and  smelling;  by  the  different  impulse  of 
which  parts,  caused  by  their  different  size,  figure,  and 
motion,  the  variety  of  sensations  is  produced  in  us. 

12.  Whether    then    they    be    globules    or   no;    or 
whether  they  have  a  verticity  about  their  own  centres 
that  produces  the  idea  of  whiteness  in  us ;  this  is  cer- 
tain, that  the  more  particles  of  light  are  reflected  from 
a  body,  fitted  to  give  them  that  peculiar  motion  which 
produces  the  sensation  of  whiteness  in  us,  and  possibly, 
too,  the  quicker  that  peculiar  motion  is,  the  whiter  does 
the  body  appear  from  which  the  greatest  number  are 
reflected,  as  is  evident  in  the  same  piece  of  paper  put 
in  the  sunbeams,  in  the  shade,  and  in  a  dark  hole;  in 
each  of  which  it  will  produce  in  us  the  idea  of  white- 
ness in  far  different  degrees. 

13.  Not  knowing  therefore  what  number  of  par- 
ticles, nor  what  motion  of  them,  is  fit  to  produce  any 
precise  degree  of  whiteness,  we  cannot  demonstrate  the 


282     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

certain  equality  of  any  two  degrees  of  whiteness ;  be- 
cause we  have  no  certain  standard  to  measure  them  by, 
nor  means  to  distinguish  every  the  least  real  difference ; 
the  only  help  we  have  being  from  our  senses,  which  in 
this  point  fail  us.  But  where  the  difference  is  so  great 
as  to  produce  in  the  mind  clearly  distinct  ideas,  whose 
differences  can  be  perfectly  retained,  there  these  ideas 
of  colours,  as  we  see  in  different  kinds,  as  blue  and  red, 
are  as  capable  of  demonstration  as  ideas  of  number  and 
extension.  What  I  have  here  said  of  whiteness  and 
colours,  I  think,  holds  true  in  all  secondary  qualities 
and  their  modes. 

14.  Sensitive  knowledge  of  particular  existence. — 
These  two,  viz.,  intuition  and  demonstration,  are  the 
degrees  of  our  knowledge;  whatever  comes  short  of 
one  of  these,  with  what  assurance  soever  embraced,  is 
but  faith  or  opinion,  but  not  knowledge,  at  least  in  all 
general  truths.  There  is,  indeed,  another  perception  of 
the  mind  employed  about  the  particular  existence  of 
finite  beings  without  us ;  which,  going  beyond  bare 
probability,  and  yet  not  reaching  perfectly  to  either  of 
the  foregoing  degrees  of  certainty,  passes  under  the 
name  of  "  knowledge."  There  can  be  nothing  more 
certain,  than  that  the  idea  we  receive  from  an  external 
object  is  in  our  minds ;  this  is  intuitive  knowledge.  But 
whether  there  be  anything  more  than  barely  that  idea 
in  our  minds,  whether  we  can  thence  certainly  infer  the 
existence  of  anything  without  us  which  corresponds  to 
that  idea,  is  that  whereof  some  men  think  there  may  be 
a  question  made ;  because  men  may  have  such  ideas  in 
their  minds  when  no  such  thing  exists,  no  such  object 
affects  their  senses.  But  yet  here,  I  think,  we  are  pro- 
vided with  an  evidence  that  puts  us  past  doubting ;  for 
I  ask  any  one,  whether  he  be  not  invincibly  conscious 


OF  THE  DEGREES  OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE.        283 

to  himself  of  a  different  perception  when  he  looks  on 
the  sun  by  day,  and  thinks  on  it  by  night;  when  he 
actually  tastes  wormwood,  or  smells  a  rose,  or  only 
thinks  on  that  savour  or  odour?  We  as  plainly  find 
the  difference  there  is  between  any  idea  revived  in  our 
minds  by  our  own  memory,  and  actually  coming  into 
our  minds  by  our  senses,  as  we  do  between  any  two 
distinct  ideas.  If  any  one  say,  "A  dream  may  do  the 
same  thing,  and  all  these  ideas  may  be  produced  in  us 
without  any  external  objects;  "  he  may  please  to  dream 
that  I  make  him  this  answer:  (i.)  That  it  is  no  great 
matter  whether  I  remove  his  scruple  or  no;  where  all 
is  but  dream,  reasoning  and  arguments  are  of  no  use, 
truth  and  knowledge  nothing.  (2)  That  I  believe  he 
will  allow  a  very  manifest  difference  between  dreaming 
of  being  in  the  fire,  and  being  actually  in  it.  But  yet 
if  he  be  resolved  to  appear  so  sceptical  as  to  maintain, 
that  what  I  call  "  being  actually  in  the  fire  "  is  nothing 
but  a  dream;  and  that  we  cannot  thereby  certainly 
know  that  any  such  thing  as  fire  actually  exists  without 
us ;  I  answer,  that  we  certainly  finding  that  pleasure  or 
pain  follows  upon  the  application  of  certain  objects  to 
us,  whose  existence  we  perceive,  or  dream  that  we  per- 
ceive, by  our  senses ;  this  certainty  is  as  great  as  our 
happiness  or  misery,  beyond  which  we  have  no  con- 
cernment to  know  or  to  be.  So  that,  I  think,  we  may 
add  to  the  two  former  sorts  of  knowledge  this  also,  of 
the  existence  of  particular  external  objects  by  that  per- 
ception and  consciousness  we  have  of  the  actual 
entrance  of  ideas  from  them,  and  allow  these  three  de- 
grees of  knowledge,  viz.,  intuitive,  demonstrative,  and 
sensitive :  in  each  of  which  there  are  different  degrees 
and  ways  of  evidence  and  certainty. 

15.     Knozvledge  not  always  clear,  where  the  ideas  are 


284     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

so. —  But  since  our  knowledge  is  founded  on  and  env 
ployed  about  our  ideas  only,  will  it  not  follow  from 
thence  that  it  is  conformable  to  our  ideas;  and  that 
where  our  ideas  are  clear  and  distinct,  or  obscure  and 
confused,  our  knowledge  will  be  so  too?  To  which  I 
answer,  No :  for  our  knowledge  consisting  in  the  per- 
ception of  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  any  two 
ideas,  its  clearness  or  obscurity  consists  in  the  clear- 
ness or  obscurity  of  that  perception,  and  not  in  the 
clearness  or  obscurity  of  the  ideas  themselves ;  v.  g.,  a 
man  that  has  as  clear  ideas  of  the  angles  of  a  triangle, 
and  of  equality  to  two  right  ones,  as  any  mathematician 
in  the  world,  may  yet  have  but  a  very  obscure  percep- 
tion of  their  agreement,  and  so  have  but  a  very  obscure 
knowledge  of  it.  [But  ideas  which  by  reason  of  their 
obscurity  or  otherwise  are  confused,  cannot  produce 
any  clear  or  distinct  knowledge ;  because  as  far  as  any 
ideas  are  confused,  so  far  the  mind  cannot  perceive 
clearly  whether  they  agree  or  disagree.  Or,  to  express 
the  same  thing  in  a  way  less  apt  to  be  misunderstood, 
he  that  hath  not  determined  ideas  to  the  words  he 
uses  cannot  make  propositions  of  them,  of  whose  truth 
he  can  be  certain.] 

CHAPTER  III. 

OF  THE  EXTENT  OF   HUMAN   KNOWLEDGE. 

I.  KNOWLEDGE,  as  has  been  said,  lying  in  the  per- 
ception of  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  any  of 
our  ideas,  it  follows  from  hence  that, 

First,  No  farther  than  we  have  ideas. — First,  We 
can  have  knowledge  no  farther  than  we  have  ideas. 


OF  THE  EXTENT  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE.     285 

2.  Secondly,  No  farther  than  we  can  perceive  their 
agreement  or  disagreement. —  Secondly,  That  we  can 
have  no  knowledge  farther  than  we  can  have  percep- 
tion of  that  agreement  or  disagreement:  which  per- 
ception being,  (i.)  Either  by  intuition,  or  the  imme- 
diate comparing  any  two  ideas;  or,   (2.)  By  reason, 
examining  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  two  ideas 
by  the  intervention  of  some  others;  or,  (3.)  By  sensa- 
tion, perceiving  the  existence  of    particular    things; 
hence  it  also  follows, 

3.  Thirdly,  Intuitive  knowledge  extends  itself  not 
to  all  the  relations  of  all  our  ideas. —  Thirdly,  that  we 
cannot  have  an  intuitive  knowledge  that  shall  extend  it- 
self to  all  our  ideas,  and  all  that  we  would  know  about 
them ;  because  we  cannot  examine  and  perceive  all  the 
relations  they  have  one  to  another  by  juxtaposition,  or 
an   immediate  comparison  one   with    another.     Thus 
having  the  ideas  of  an  obtuse  and  an  acute-angled  tri- 
angle,  both   drawn    from   equal   bases,   and   between 
parallels,  I  can  by  intuitive  knowledge  perceive  the  one 
not  to  be  the  other ;  but  cannot  that  way  know  whether 
they  be  equal  or  no:  because  their  agreement  or  dis- 
agreement in  equality  can  never  be  perceived  by  an 
immediate  comparing  them;  the  difference  of  figure 
makes  their  parts  incapable  of  an  exact  immediate  ap- 
plication ;  and  therefore  there  is  need  of  some  inter- 
vening qualities  to  measure  them  by,  which  is  demon- 
stration or  rational  knowledge. 

4.  Fourthly,     Nor     demonstrative     knowledge. — 
Fourthly,  It  follows  also,  from  what  is  above  observed, 
that  our  rational  knowledge  cannot  reach  to  the  whole 
extent  of  our  ideas:  because  between  two  different 
ideas  we  would  examine,  we  cannot  always  find  such 
mediums  as  we  can  connect  one  to  another  with  an  in- 


286     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

tuitive  knowledge,  in  all  the  parts  of  the  deduction; 
and  wherever  that  fails,  we  come  short  of  knowledge 
and  demonstration. 

5.  Fifthly,     Sensitive    knowledge    narrower    than 
either. —  Fifthly,    Sensitive    knowledge,    reaching    no 
farther  than  the  existence  of  things  actually  present  to 
our  senses,  is  yet  much  narrower  than  either  of  the 
former. 

6.  Sixthly,  Our  knowledge  therefore  narrower  than 
our  ideas. —  From  all  which  it  is  evident,  that  the  ex- 
tent of  our  knowledge  comes  not  only  short  of  the 
reality  of  things,  but  even  of  the  extent  of  our  own 
ideas.    Though  our  knowledge  be  limited  to  our  ideas, 
and  cannot  exceed  them  either  in  extent  or  perfection : 
and  though  these  be  very  narrow  bounds  in  respect  of 
the  extent  of  all  being,  and  far  short  of  what  we  may 
justly  imagine  to  be  in  some  even  created  understand- 
ings not  tied  down  to  the  dull  and  narrow  information 
that  is  to  be  received  from  some  few  and  not  very  acute 
ways  of  perception,  such  as  are  our  senses ;  yet  it  would 
be  well  with  us  if  our  knowledge  were  but  as  large  as 
our  ideas,  and  there  were  not  many  doubts  and  inquiries 
concerning  the  ideas  we  have,  whereof  we  are  not,  nor 
I  believe  ever  shall  be  in  this  world,  resolved.    Never- 
theless, I  do  not  question  but  that  human  knowledge, 
under  the  present  circumstances  of  our  beings  and  con- 
stitutions, may  be  carried  much  farther  than  it  hitherto 
has  been,  if  men  would  sincerely,  and  with  freedom  of 
mind,  employ  all  that  industry  and  labour  of  thought  in 
improving  the  means  of  discovering  truth  which  they 
do  for  the  colouring  or  support  of  falsehood,  to  main- 
tain a  system,  interest,  or  party  they  are  once  engaged 
in.    But  yet,  after  all,  I  think  I  may,  without  injury  to 
human   perfection,   be   confident  that  our  knowledge 


OF  THE  EXTENT  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE.     287 

would  never  reach  to  all  we  might  desire  to  know  con- 
cerning those  ideas  we  have ;  nor  be  able  to  surmount  all 
the  difficulties,  and  resolve  all  the  questions,  that  might 
arise  concerning  any  of  them.    We  have  the  ideas  of  a 
square,  a  circle,  and  equality:  and  yet,  perhaps,  shall 
never  be  able  to  find  a  circle  equal  to  a  square,  and  cer- 
tainly know  that  it  is  so.    We  have  the  ideas  of  matter 
and  thinking,  but  possibly  shall  never  be  able  to  know 
whether  [any  mere  material  being]  thinks  or  no;  i£ be- 
ing impossible  for  us,  by  the  contemplation  of  our  own 
ideas  without  revelation,  to  discover  whether  Omnipo- 
tency  has  not  given  to  some  systems  of  matter,  fitly 
disposed,  a  power  to  perceive  and  think,  or  else  joined 
and  fixed  to  matter,  so  disposed,  a  thinking  immaterial 
substance :  it  being,  in  respect  of  our  notions,  not  much 
more  remote  from  our  comprehension  to  conceive  that 
God  can,  if  he  pleases,  superadd  to  matter  a  faculty  of 
thinking,  than  that  he  should  superadd  to  it  another 
substance  with  a  faculty  of  thinking;  since  we  know 
not  wherein  thinking  consists,  nor  to  what  sort  of  sub- 
stances the  Almighty  has  been  pleased  to  give  that 
power  which  cannot  be  in  any  created  being  but  merely 
by  the  good  pleasure  and  bounty  of  the  Creator.     For 
[I  see  no  contradiction  in  it,  that  the  first  eternal  think- 
ing Being,  or  Omnipotent  Spirit,  should,  if  he  pleased, 
give  to  certain  systems  of  created  senseless  matter,  put 
together  as  he  thinks  fit,  some  degrees  of  sense,  percep- 
tion and  thought :  though,  as  I  think  I  have  proved  (lib. 
iv.  chap.  x.  sec.  14,  &c.),  it  is  no  less  than  a  contradic- 
tion to  suppose  matter  (which  is  evidently  in  its  own 
nature  void  of  sense  and  thought)  should  be  that  eternal 
first  thinking  being.    What  certainty  of  knowledge  can 
any  one  have  that  some  perception,  such  as  v.  g.,  pleas- 
ure and  pain,  should  not  be  in  some  bodies  themselves], 


288     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

after  a  certain  manner  modified  and  moved,  as  well  as 
that  they  should  be  in  an  immaterial  substance  upon  the 
motion  of  the  parts  of  body  ?  body,  as  far  as  we  can  con- 
ceive, being  able  only  to  strike  and  affect  body ;  and  mo- 
tion, according  to  the  utmost  reach  of  our  ideas,  being 
able  to  produce  nothing  but  motion :  so  that  when  we  al- 
low it  to  produce  pleasure  or  pain,  or  the  idea  of  a  colour 
or  sound,  we  are  fain  to  quit  our  reason,  go  beyond  our 
ideas,  and  attribute  it  wholly  to  the  good  pleasure  of  our 
Maker.  For,  since  we  must  allow  he  has  annexed 
effects  to  motion,  which  we  can  no  way  conceive 
motion  able  to  produce,  what  reason  have  we  to  con- 
clude that  he  could  not  order  them  as  well  to  be  pro- 
duced in  a  subject  we  cannot  conceive  capable  of  them, 
as  well  as  in  a  subject  we  cannot  conceive  the  motion 
of  matter  can  any  way  operate  upon?  I  say  not  this 
that  I  would  any  way  lessen  the  belief  of  the  soul's 
immateriality:  I  am  not  here  speaking  of  probability, 
but  knowledge:  and  I  think,  not  only  that  it  becomes 
the  modesty  of  philosophy  not  to  pronounce  magisteri- 
ally, where  we  want  that  evidence  that  can  produce 
knowledge ;  but  also,  that  it  is  of  use  to  us  to  discern 
how  far  our  knowledge  does  reach;  for  the  state  we 
are  at  present  in,  not  being  that  of  vision,  we  must,  in 
many  things,  content  ourselves  with  faith  and  proba- 
bility :  and  in  the  present  question  about  the  immateri- 
ality of  the  soul,  if  our  faculties  cannot  arrive  at 
demonstrative  certainty,  we  need  not  think  it  strange. 
All  the  great  ends  of  morality  and  religion  are  well 
enough  secured,  without  philosophical  proofs  of  the 
soul's  immateriality;  since  it  is  evident  that  he  who 
made  us  at  the  beginning,  to  subsist  here,  sensible  intel- 
ligent beings,  and  for  several  years  continued  us  in  such 
a  state,  can  and  will  restore  us  to  the  like  state  of  sensi- 


OF  THE  EXTENT  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE.     289 

bility  in  another  world,  and  make  us  capable  there  to 
receive  the  retribution  he  has  designed  to  men  accord- 
ing to  their  doings  in  this  life.  [And  therefore  it  is  not 
of  such  mighty  necessity  to  determine  one  way  or  the 
other,  as  some,  over  zealous  for  or  against  the  imma- 
teriality of  the  soul,  have  been  forward  to  make  the 
world  believe:  who  either,  on  the  one  side,  indulging 
too  much  their  thoughts  immersed  altogether  in  matter, 
can  allow  no  existence  to  what  is  not  material :  or  who, 
on  the  other  side,  finding  not  cogitation  within  the 
natural  powers  of  matter,  examined  over  and  over 
again  by  the  utmost  intension  of  mind,  have  the  con- 
fidence to  conclude  that  Omnipotency  itself  cannot  give 
perception  and  thought  to  a  substance  which  has  the 
modification  of  solidity.  He  that  considers  how  hardly 
sensation  is,  in  our  thoughts,  reconcilable  to  extended 
matter,  or  existence  to  anything  that  hath  no  extension 
at  all,  will  confess  that  he  is  very  far  from  certainly 
knowing  what  his  soul  is.  It  is  a  point  which  seems 
to  me  to  be  put  out  of  the  reach  of  our  knowledge :  and 
he  who  will  give  himself  leave  to  consider  freely,  and 
look  into  the  dark  and  intricate  part  of  each  hypothesis, 
will  scarce  find  his  reason  able  to  determine  him  fixedly 
for  or  against  the  soul's  materiality;  since  on  which 
side  soever  he  views  it,  either  as  an  unextended  sub- 
stance, or  as  a  thinking  extended. matter,  the  difficulty 
to  conceive  either  will,  whilst  either  alone  is  in  his 
thoughts,  still  drive  him  to  the  contrary  side :  an  unfair 
way  which  some  men  take  with  themselves;  who,  be- 
cause of  the  unconceivableness  of  something  they  find 
in  one,  throw  themselves  violently  into  the  contrary 
hypothesis,  though  altogether  as  unintelligible  to  an 
unbiassed  understanding.  This  serves  not  only  to  show 
the  weakness  and  the  scantiness  of  our  knowledge,  but 


290     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

the  insignificant  triumph  of  such  sort  of  arguments 
which,  drawn  from  our  own  views,  may  satisfy  us  that 
we  can  find  no  certainty  on  one  side  of  the  question ;  but 
do  not  at  all  thereby  help  us  to  truth  by  running  into  the 
opposite  opinion,  which  on  examination  will  be  found 
clogged  with  equal  difficulties.  For  what  safety,  what 
advantage  to  any  one  is  it,  for  the  avoiding  the  seem- 
ing absurdities  and,  to  him,  insurmountable  rubs  he 
meets  with  in  one  opinion  to  take  refuge  in  the  con- 
trary, which  is  built  on  something  altogether  as  inex- 
plicable, and  as  far  remote  from  his  comprehension? 
It  is  past  controversy,  that  we  have  in  us  something 
that  thinks;  our  very  doubts  about  what  it  is  confirm 
the  certainty  of  its  being,  though  we  must  content  our- 
selves in  the  ignorance  of  what  kind  of  being  it  is :  and 
it  is  as  vain  to  go  about  to  be  sceptical  in  this,  as  it  is 
unreasonable  in  most  other  cases  to  be  positive  against 
the  being  of  any  thing,  because  we  cannot  comprehend 
its  nature.  For  I  would  fain  know,  what  substance 
exists  that  has  not  something  in  it  which  manifestly 
baffles  our  understandings.  Other  spirits,  who  see  and 
know  the  nature  and  inward  constitution  of  things, 
how  much  must  they  exceed  us  in  knowledge?  To 
which  if  we  add  larger  comprehension,  which  enables 
them  at  one  glance  to  see  the  connexion  and  agreement 
of  very  many  ideas,  and  readily  supplies  to  them  the 
intermediate  proofs,  which  we,  by  single  and  slow 
steps,  and  long  poring  in  the  dark,  hardly  at  last  find 
out,  and  are  often  ready  to  forget  one  before  we  have 
hunted  out  another,  we  may  guess  at  some  part  of  the 
happiness  of  superior  ranks  of  spirits,  who  have  a 
quicker  and  more  penetrating  sight,  as  well  as  a  larger 
field  of  knowledge.]  But,  to  return  to  the  argument  in 
hand :  our  knowledge,  I  say,  is  not  only  limited  to  the 


OF  THE  EXTENT  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE.     291 

paucity  and  imperfections  of  the  ideas  we  have,  and 
which  we  employ  it  about,  but  even  comes  short  of 
that,  too :  but  how  far  it  reaches,  let  us  now  inquire. 

7.  How  far  our  knowledge  reaches. —  The  affirma- 
tions or  negations  we  make  concerning  the  ideas  we 
have,  may,  as  I  have  before  intimated  in  general,  be 
reduced  to  these  four  sorts,  viz.,  identity,  co-existence, 
relation,  and  real  existence.     I  shall  examine  how  far 
our  knowledge  extends  in  each  of  these :  — 

8.  First.     Our  knowledge  of  identity  and  diversity, 
as  far  as  our  ideas. —  First,  As  to  identity  and  diver- 
sity, in  this  way  of  the  agreement  or  disagreement 
of  ideas,  our  intuitive  knowledge  is  as  far  extended  as 
our  ideas  themselves :  and  there  can  be  no  idea  in  the 
mind  which  does  not  presently,  by  an  intuitive  knowl- 
edge, perceive  to  be  what  it  is,  and  to  be  different  from 
any  other. 

9.  Secondly.     Of  co-existence,  a  very  little  way. — 
Secondly,  As  to  the  second  sort,  which  is  the  agreement 
or  disagreement  of  our  ideas  in  co-existence,  in  this 
our  knowledge  is  very  short,  though  in  this  consists  the 
greatest  and  most  material  part  of  our  knowledge  con- 
cerning substances.     For  our  ideas  of  the  species  of 
substances  being,  as  I  have  showed,  nothing  but  cer- 
tain  collections  of   simple   ideas   united   in   one   sub- 
ject, and  so  co-existing  together;  —  v.  g.,  our  idea  of 
"  flame  "  is  a  body  hot,  luminous,  and  moving  upward ; 
of  "  gold,"  a  body  heavy  to  a  certain  degree,  yellow, 
malleable,  and  fusible.     These,  or  some  such  complex 
ideas  as  these  in  men's  minds,  do  these  two  names 
of  the  different  substances,  "  flame  "  and  "  gold,"  stand 
for.     When  we  would  know  any  thing  farther  concern- 
ing these,  or  any  other  sort  of  substances,  what  do  we 
inquire  but  what  other  qualities  or  powers  these  sub- 


292     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

stances  have  or  have  not  ?  which  is  nothing  else  but  to 
know  what  other  simple  ideas  do  or  do  not  co-exist  with 
those  that  make  up  that  complex  idea. 

10.  Because  the  connexion  between  most  simple 
ideas  is  unknown  —  This,  how  weighty  and  consider- 
able a  part  soever  of  human  science,  is  yet  very  nar- 
row, and  scarce  any  at  all.     The  reason  whereof  is,  that 
the  simple  ideas  whereof  our  complex  ideas  of  sub- 
stances are  made  up  are,  for  the  most  part,  such  as 
carry  with  them,  in  their  own  nature,  no  visible  nec- 
essary connexion  or  inconsistency  with  any  other  sim- 
ple ideas,  whose  co-existence  with  them  we  would  in- 
form ourselves  about. 

11.  Especially  of  secondary  qualities. —  The  ideas 
that  our  complex  ones  of  substances  are  made  up  of. 
and  about  which  our  knowledge  concerning  substances 
is  most  employed,  are  those  of  their  secondary  quali- 
ties; which  depending  all  *(as  has  been  shown)  upon 
the  primary  qualities  of  their  minute  and  insensible 
parts,  or,  if  not  upon  them,  upon  something  yet  more 
remote  from  our  comprehension,  it  is  impossible  we 
should  know  which  have  a  necessary  union  or  incon- 
sistency one  with  another:  for,  not  knowing  the  root 
they  spring  from,  not  knowing  what  size,  figure,  and 
texture  of  parts  they  are  on  which  depend  and  from 
which  result  those  qualities  which  make  our  complex 
idea  of  gold,  it  is  impossible  we  should  know  what 
other  qualities  result  from  or  are  incompatible  with 
the  same  constitution  of  the  insensible  parts  of  gold ; 
and  so,  consequently,  must  always  co-exist  with  that 
complex  idea  we  have  of  it,  or  else  are  inconsistent  with 
it. 

12.  Because  all  connexion  between  any  secondary 
and  primary  qualities  is  undiscoverable. —  Besides  this 


OF  THE  EXTENT  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE.     293 

ignorance  of  the  primary  qualities  of  the  insensible 
parts  of  bodies,  on  which  depend  all  their  secondary 
qualities,  there  is  yet  another  and  more  incurable  part 
of  ignorance,  which  sets  us  more  remote  from  a  certain 
knowledge  of  the  co-existence  or  in-co-existence  (if 
I  may  so  say)  of  different  ideas  in  the  same  subject; 
and  that  is,  that  there  is  no  discoverable  connexion  be- 
tween any  secondary  quality  and  those  primary  quali- 
ties that  it  depends  on. 

13.  That  the  size,  figure,  and  motion  of  one  body 
should  cause  a  change  in  the  size,  figure,  and  motion 
of  another  body,  is  not  beyond  our  conception.     The 
separation  of  the  parts  of  one  body  upon  the  intrusion 
of  another,  and  the  change  from  rest  to  motion  upon 
impulse ;  these,  and  the  like,  seem  to  have  some  con- 
nexion one   with   another.     And   if   we   knew  these 
primary  qualities  of  bodies,  we  might  have  reason  to 
hope  we  might  be  able  to  know  a  great  deal  more  of 
these  operations  of  them  one  upon  another:  but  our 
minds  not  being  able  to  discover  any  connexion  betwixt 
these  primary  qualities  of  bodies,  and  the  sensations  that 
are  produced  in  us  by  them,  we  can  never  be  able  to  es- 
tablish certain  and  undoubted  rules  of  the  consequence 
or  co-existence  of  any  secondary  qualities,  though  we 
could  discover  the  size,  figure,  or  motion  of  those  in- 
visible parts  which  immediately  produce  them.     We  are 
so  far  from  knowing  what  figure,  size,  or  motion  of 
parts  produce  a  yellow  colour,  a  sweet  taste,  or  a  sharp 
sound,  that  we  can  by  no  means  conceive  how  any  size, 
figure,  or  motion  of  any  particles  can  possibly  produce 
in  us  the  idea  of  any  colour,  taste,  or  sound  whatsoever ; 
there  is  no  conceivable  connexion  between  the  one  and 
the  other. 

14.  In  vain  therefore  shall  we  endeavour  to  discover 


294     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

by  our  ideas  (the  only  true  way  of  certain  and  universal 
knowledge)  what  other  ideas  are  to  be  found  con- 
stantly joined  with  that  of  our  complex  idea  of  any 
substance :  since  we  neither  know  the  real  constitution 
of  the  minute  parts  on  which  their  qualities  do  depend ; 
nor,  did  we  know  them,  could  we  discover  any  neces- 
sary connexion  between  them  and  any  of  the  secondary 
qualities ;  which  is  necessary  to  be  done  before  we  can 
certainly  know  their  necessary  co-existence.  So  that, 
let  our  complex  idea  of  any  species  of  substances  be 
what  it  will,  we  can  hardly,  from  the  simple  ideas  con- 
tained in  it,  certainly  determine  the  necessary  co-exist- 
ence of  any  other  quality  whatsoever.  Our  knowledge 
in  all  these  inquiries  reaches  very  little  farther  than  our 
experience.  Indeed  some  few  of  the  primary  qualities 
have  a  necessary  dependence  and  visible  connexion  one 
with  another,  as  figure  necessarily  supposes  extension, 
receiving  or  communicating  motion  by  impulse  sup- 
poses solidity.  But  though  these  and  perhaps  some 
others  of  our  ideas  have,  yet  there  are  so  few  of  them 
that  have,  a  visible  connexion  one  with  another,  that  we 
can  by  intuition  or  demonstration  discover  the  co- 
existence of  very  few  of  the  qualities  are  to  be  found 
united  in  substances :  and  we  are  left  only  to  the  as- 
sistance of  our  senses  to  make  known  to  us  what 
qualities  they  contain.  For,  of  all  the  qualities  that 
are  co-existent  in  any  subject,  without  this  dependence 
and  evident  connexion  of  their  ideas  one  with  another, 
we  cannot  know  certainly  any  two  to  co-exist  any 
farther  than  experience,  by  our  senses,  informs  us. 
Thus  though  we  see  the  yellow  colour,  and  upon  trial 
find  the  weight,  malleableness,  fusibility,  and  fixedness 
that  are  united  in  a  piece  of  gold ;  yet,  because  no  one 
of  these  ideas  has  any  evident  dependence  or  neces- 


OF  THE  EXTENT  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE.     295 

sary  connexion  with  the  other,  we  cannot  certainly 
know  that  where  any  four  of  these  are  the  fifth  will 
be  there  also,  how  highly  probable  soever  it  may  be: 
because  the  highest  probability  amounts  not  to  certain- 
ty; without  which  there  can  be  no  true  knowledge. 
For  this  co-existence  can  be  no  farther  known  than  it 
is  perceived :  and  it  cannot  be  perceived  but  either  in 
particular  subjects  by  the  observation  of  our  senses,  or 
in  general  by  the  necessary  connexion  of  the  ideas 
themselves. 

15.  Of  repugnancy  to  co-existence,  larger. — As  to 
incompatibility  or  repugnancy  to  co-existence,  we  may 
know  that  any  subject  may  have  of  each  sort  of  pri- 
mary qualities  but  one  particular  at  once ;  v.  g.,  each 
particular  extension,  figure,  number  of  parts,  motion, 
excludes  all  other  of  each  kind.  The  like  also  is  cer- 
tain of  all  sensible  ideas  peculiar  to  each  sense;  for 
whatever  of  each  kind  is  present  in  any  subject,  ex- 
cludes all  other  of  that  sort;  -u.  g.,  no  one  subject  can 
have  two  smells  or  two  colours  at  the  same  time.  To 
this,  perhaps,  will  be  said,  "  Has  not  an  opal  or  the 
infusion  of  lignum  nephriticum  two  colours  at  the  same 
time  ?  "  To  which  I  answer,  that  these  bodies,  to  eyes 
differently  placed,  may  at  the  same  time  afford  different 
colours:  but  I  take  liberty  also  to  say,  that  to  eyes 
differently  placed  it  is  different  parts  of  the  object  that 
reflect  the  particles  of  light:  and  therefore  it  is  not 
the  same  part  of  the  object,  and  so  not  the  very  same 
subject,  which  at  the  same  time  appears  both  yellow 
and  azure.  For  it  is  as  impossible  that  the  very  same 
particle  of  any  body  should  at  the  same  time  differently 
modify  or  reflect  the  rays  of  light,  as  that  it  should 
have  two  different  figures  and  textures  at  the  same 
time. 


296     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

1 6.  Of  the  co-existence  of  powers,  a  very  little  way. 
—  But  as  to  the  power  of  substances  to  change  the 
sensible  qualities  of  other  bodies,  which  makes  a  great 
part  of  our  inquiries  about  them,  and  is  no  inconsider- 
able branch  of  our  knowledge;  I  doubt,  as  to  these, 
whether  our  knowledge  reaches  much  farther  than  our 
experience  ;  or  whether  we  can  come  to  the  discovery  of 
most  of  these  powers,  and  be  certain  that  they  are  in 
any  subject,  by  the  connexion  with  any  of  those  ideas 
which  to  us  make  its  essence.  Because  the  active  and 
passive  powers  of  bodies,  and  their  ways  of  operating, 
consisting  in  a  texture  and  motion  of  parts  which  we 
cannot  by  any  means  come  to  discover,  it  is  but  in  very 
few  cases  we  can  be  able  to  perceive  their  dependence 
on  or  repugnance  to  any  of  those  ideas  which  make  our 
complex  one  of  that  sort  of  things.  I  have  here  in- 
stanced in  the  corpuscularian  hypothesis,  as  that  which 
is  thought  to  go  farthest  in  an  intelligible  explication 
of  those  qualities  of  bodies ;  and  I  fear  the  weakness 
of  human  understanding  is  scarce  able  to  substitute 
another,  which  will  afford  us  a  fuller  and  clearer  dis- 
covery of  the  necessary  connexion  and  co-existence  of 
the  powers  which  are  to  be  observed  united  in  several 
sorts  of  them.  This  at  least  is  certain,  that  whichever 
hypothesis  be  clearest  and  truest  (for  of  that  it  is  not 
my  business  to  determine),  our  knowledge  concerning 
corporeal  substances  will  be  very  little  advanced  by  any 
of  them,  till  we  are  made  to  see  what  qualities  and 
powers  of  bodies  have  a  necessary  connexion  or  re- 
pugnancy one  with  another ;  which,  in  the  present  state 
of  philosophy,  I  think,  we  know  but  to  a  very  small 
degree:  and  I  doubt  whether,  with  those  faculties  we 
have,  we  shall  ever  be  able  to  carry  our  general  knowl- 
edge (I  say  not  particular  experience)  in  this  part 


OF  THE  EXTENT  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE.     297 

much  farther.  [Experience  is  that  which  in  this  part  we 
must  depend  on.  And  it  were  to  be  wished  that  it  were 
more  improved.  We  find  the  advantages  some  men's 
generous  pains  have  this  way  brought  to  the  stock  of 
natural  knowledge.  And  if  others,  especially  the  phi- 
losophers by  fire,  who  pretend  to  it,  had  been  so  wary 
in  their  observations  and  sincere  in  their  reports  as 
those  who  call  themselves  philosophers  ought  to  have 
been,  our  acquaintance  with  the  bodies  here  about  us, 
and  our  insight  into  their  powers  and  operations,  had 
been  yet  much  greater.] 

17.  Of  spirits  yet  narrower. —  If  we  are  at  a  loss 
in  respect  of  the  powers  and  operations  of  bodies,  I 
think  it  is  easy  to  conclude  we  are  much  more  in  the 
dark  in  reference  to  spirits,  whereof  we  naturally  have 
no  ideas  but  what  we  draw  from  that  of  our  own,  by 
reflecting  on  the  operations  of  our  own  souls  within  us, 
as  far  as  they  can  come  within  our  observation.     But 
how  inconsiderable  a  rank  the  spirits  that  inhabit  our 
bodies  hold  amongst  those  various^  and  possibly  in- 
numerable, kinds  of  nobler  beings ;  and  how  far  short 
they  come  of  the  endowments  and  perfections  of  cher- 
ubims  and  seraphims,  and  infinite  sorts  of  spirits  above 
us,  is  what  by  a  transient  hint,  in  another  place,  I  have 
offered  to  my  reader's  consideration. 

1 8.  Thirdly,  Of  other  relations,  it  is  not  easy  to  say 
how  far. — As  to  the  third  sort  of  our  knowledge,  viz., 
the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  any  of  our  ideas  in 
any  other  relation :  this,  as  it  is  the  largest  field  of  our 
knowledge,  so  it  is  hard  to  determine  how  far  it  may 
extend :  because  the  advances  that  are  made  in  this  part 
of  knowledge  depending  on  our  sagacity  in  finding  in- 
termediate ideas  that  may  show  the  relations  and  habi- 
tudes of  ideas,  whose  co-existence  is  not  considered, 


298     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

it  is  a  hard  matter  to  tell  when  we  are  at  an  end  of 
such  discoveries,  and  when  reason  has  all  the  helps  it  is 
capable  of  for  the  finding  of  proofs,  or  examining  the 
agreement  or  disagreement  of  remote  ideas.  They 
that  are  ignorant  of  algebra,  cannot  imagine  the  won- 
ders in  this  kind  are  to  be  done  by  it :  and  what  farther 
improvements  and  helps,  advantageous  to  other  parts 
of  knowledge,  the  sagacious  mind  of  man  may  yet 
find  out,  it  is  not  easy  to  determine.  This  at  least  I 
believe,  that  the  ideas  of  quantity  are  not  those  alone 
that  are  capable  of  demonstration  and  knowledge ;  and 
that  other,  and  perhaps  more  useful,  parts  of  contem- 
plation would  afford  us  certainty,  if  vices,  passions,  and 
domineering  interest  did  not  oppose  or  menace  such 
endeavoufs.  '* 

*        *        *        * 

21.  Fourthly,  Of  real  existence.  W e  have  an  IN- 
TUITIVE knowledge  of  our  own,  DEMONSTRATIVE  of 
God's,  SENSITIVE  of  some  few  other  things. —  As  to 
the  fourth  sort  of  our  knowledge,  viz.,  of  the  real  exist- 
ence of  things,  we  have  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  our 
own  existence ;  and  a  demonstrative  knowledge  of  the 
existence  of  a  God ;  of  the  existence  of  any  thing  else, 
we  have  no  other  but  a  sensitive  knowledge,  which 
extends  not  beyond  the  objects  present  to  our  senses. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

OF  THE  REALITY  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE. 

I.  Objection.  Knowledge  placed  in  ideas  may  be 
all  bare  vision. —  I  doubt  not  but  my  reader  by  this  time 
may  be  apt  to  think  that  I  have  been  all  this  while 


OF  REALITY  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE.       299 

only  building  a  castle  in  the  air ;  and  be  ready  to  say 
to  me,  "  To  what  purpose  all  this  stir?  '  Knowledge,' 
say  you,  '  is  only  the  perception  of  the  agreement  or 
disagreement  of  our  own  ideas ;  '  but  who  knows  what 
those  ideas  may  be  ?  Is  there  any  thing  so  extravagant 
as  the  imaginations  of  men's  brains?  Where  is  the 
head  that  has  no  chimeras  in  it  ?  Or  if  there  be  a  sober 
and  a  wise  man,  what  difference  will  there  be,  by  your 
rules,  between  his  knowledge,  and  that  of  the  most 
extravagant  fancy  in  the  world  ?  They  both  have  their 
ideas,  and  perceive  their  agreement  and  disagreement 
one  with  another.  If  there  be  any  difference  between 
them,  the  advantage  will  be  on  the  warm-headed  man's 
side,  as  having  the  more  ideas,  and  the  more  lively. 
And  so,  by  your  rules,  he  will  be  the  more  knowing. 
If  it  be  true,  that  all  knowledge  lies  only  in  the  percep- 
tion of  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  our  own  ideas, 
the  visions  of  an  enthusiast,  and  the  reasonings  of  a 
sober  man,  will  be  equally  certain.  It  is  no  matter 
how  things  are:  so  a  man  observe  but  the  agreement 
of  his  own  imaginations,  and  talk  conformably,  it  is  all 
truth,  all  certainty.  Such  castles  in  the  air  will  be  as 
strongholds  of  truth  as  the  demonstrations  of  Euclid. 
That  an  harpy  is  not  a  centaur,  is  by  this  way  as 
certain  knowledge,  and  as  much  a  truth,  as  that  a 
square  is  not  a  circle. 

"  But  of  what  use  is  all  this  fine  knowledge  of  men's 
own  imaginations  to  a  man  that  inquires  after  the  real- 
ity of  things?  It  matters  not  what  men's  fancies  are, 
it  is  the  knowledge  of  things  that  is  only  to  be  prized : 
it  is  this  alone  gives  a  value  to  our  reasonings,  and  pref- 
erence to  one  man's  knowledge  over  another's,  that 
it  is  of  things  as  they  really  are,  and  not  of  dreams  and 
fancies." 


300     CONCERNING  PI  U MAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

2.  Answer.     Not  so  where  ideas  agree  with  things. 
—  To  which  I  answer,  That  if  our  knowledge  of  our 
ideas  terminate  in  them,  and  reach  no  farther,  where 
there  is  something  farther  intended,  our  most  serious 
thoughts  will  be  of  little  more  use  than  the  reveries  of  a 
crazy  brain;  and  the  truths  built  thereon  of  no  more 
weight  than  the  discourses  of  a  man  who  sees  things 
clearly  in  a  dream,  and  with  great  assurance  utters 
them.     But  I  hope  before  I  have  done  to  make  it  evi- 
dent that  this  way  of  certainty,  by  the  knowledge  of 
our  own  ideas,  goes  a  little  farther  than  bare  imagina- 
tion ;  and  I  believe  it  will  appear,  that  all  the  certainty 
of  general  truths  a  man  has  lies  in  nothing  else. 

3.  It  is  evident  the  mind  knows  not  things  imme- 
diately, but  only  by  the  intervention  of  the  ideas  it  has 
of  them.     Our  knowledge  therefore  is  real  only  so  far 
as  there  is  a  conformity  between  our  ideas  and  the 
reality  of  things.     But  what  shall  be  here  the  criterion  ? 
How  shall  the  mind,  when  it  perceives  nothing  but  its 
own  ideas,  know  that  they  agree  with  things  them- 
selves?    This,  though  it  seems  not  to  want  difficulty, 
yet  I  think  there  be  two  sorts  of  ideas  that  we  may  be 
assured  agree  with  things. 

4.  As,  First,  all  simple  ideas  do. —  First,  The  first 
are  simple  ideas,  which  since  the  mind,  as  has  been 
showed,  can  by  no  means  make  to  itself,  must  necessar- 
ily be  the  product  of  things  operating  on  the  mind  in 
a  natural  way,  and  producing  therein  those  perceptions 
which  by  the  wisdom  and  will  of  our  Maker  they  are 
ordained  and  adapted  to.     From  whence  it  follows,  that 
simple  ideas  are  not  fictions  of  our  fancies,  but  the  nat- 
ural and  regular  productions  of  things  without  us  really 
operating  upon  us ;  and  so  carry  with  them  all  the  con- 
formity which  is  intended,  or  which  our  state  requires ; 


OF  REALITY  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE.       301 

for  they  represent  to  us  things  under  those  appearances 
which  they  are  fitted  to  produce  in  us,  whereby  we  are 
enabled  to  distinguish  the  sorts  of  particular  substances, 
to  discern  the  states  they  are  in,  and  so  to  take  them 
for  our  necessities,  and  apply  them  to  our  uses.  Thus 
the  idea  of  whiteness  or  bitterness,  as  it  is  in  the  mind, 
exactly  answering  that  power  which  is  in  any  body 
to  produce  it  there,  has  all  the  real  conformity  it  can 
or  ought  to  have  with  things  without  us.  And  this 
conformity  between  our  simple  ideas  and  the  existence 
of  things  is  sufficient  for  real  knowledge. 

5.  Secondly,  All  complex  ideas  except  of  substances. 
—  Secondly,  All  our  complex  ideas  except  those  of 
substances  being  archetypes  of  the  mind's  own  making, 
not  intended  to  be  the  copies  of  any  thing,  nor  referred 
to  the  existence  of  any  thing,  as  to  their  originals,  can- 
not want  any  conformity  necessary  to  real  knowledge. 
For  that  which  is  not  designed  to  represent  any  thing 
but  itself,  can  never  be  capable  of  a  wrong  represen- 
tation, nor  mislead  us  from  the  true  apprehension  of 
any  thing  by  its  dislikeness  to  it ;  and  such,  excepting 
those  of  substances,  are  all  our  complex  ideas :  which, 
as  I  have  showed  in  another  place,  are  combinations  of 
ideas  which  the  mind  by  its  free  choice  puts  together 
without  considering  any  connexion  they  have  in  nature. 
And  hence  it  is,  that  in  all  these  sorts  the  ideas  them- 
selves are  considered  as  the  archetypes,  and  things  no 
otherwise  regarded  but  as  they  are  conformable  to 
them.  So  that  we  cannot  but  be  infallibly  certain, 
that  all  the  knowledge  we  attain  concerning  these  ideas 
is  real,  and  reaches  things  themselves ;  because  in  all 
our  thoughts,  reasonings,  and  discourses  of  this  kind, 
we  intend  things  no  farther  than  as  they  are  conform- 


302     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

able  to  our  ideas.     So  that  in  these  we  cannot  miss  of 
a  certain  and  undoubted  reality. 

6.  Hence  the  reality  of  mathematical  knowledge. — 
I  doubt  not  but  it  will  be  easily  granted  that  the  knowl- 
edge we  have  of  mathematical  truths,  is  not  only  certain 
but  real  knowledge;  and  not  the  bare  empty  vision  of 
vain,  insignificant  chimeras  of  the  brain;  and  yet,  if 
we  will  consider,  we  shall  find  that  it  is  only  of  our  own 
ideas.     The    mathematician   considers   the   truth   and 
properties  belonging  to  a  rectangle  or  circle,  only  as 
they  are  in  idea  in  his  own  mind.     For  it  is  possible 
he  never  found  either  of  them  existing  mathematically, 
i.  e.,  precisely  true,  in  his  life.     But  yet  the  knowledge 
he  has  of  any  truths  or  properties  belonging  to  a  circle, 
or  any  other  mathematical  figure,  are  never  the  less  true 
and  certain  even  of  real  things  existing;  because  real 
things  are  no  farther  concerned,  nor  intended  to  be 
meant  by  any  such  propositions,  than  as  things  really 
agree  to  those  archetypes  in  his  mind.     Is  it  true  of  the 
idea  of  a  triangle,  that  its  three  angles  are  equal  to  two 
right  ones?     It  is  true  also  of  a  triangle  wherever  it 
really  exists.  Whatever  other  figure  exists,  that  it  is  not 
exactly  answerable  to  that  idea  of  a  triangle  in  his  mind, 
is  not  at  all  concerned  in  that  proposition.     And  there- 
fore he  is  certain  all  his  knowledge  concerning  such 
ideas  is  real  knowledge:  because,  intending  things  no 
farther  than  they  agree  with  those  his  ideas,  he  is  sure 
what  he  knows  concerning  those  figures  when  they  have 
barely  an  ideal  existence  in  his  mind,  will  hold  true  of 
them  also  when  they  have  a  real  existence  in  matter; 
his  consideration  being  barely  of  those  figures,  which 
are  the  same  wherever  or  however  they  exist. 

7.  And  of  moral. —  And  hence  it  follows  that  moral 
knowledge  is  as  capable  of  real  certainty  as  mathema- 


OF  REALITY  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE.       303 

tics.  For,  certainty  being  but  the  perception  of  the 
agreement  or  disagreement  of  our  ideas,  and  demon- 
stration nothing  but  the  perception  of  such  agreement 
by  the  intervention  of  other  ideas  or  mediums,  our 
moral  ideas  as  well  as  mathematical  being  archetypes 
themselves,  and  so  adequate  and  complete  ideas,  all  the 
agreement  or  disagreement  which  we  shall  find  in  them 
will  produce  real  knowledge,  as  well  as  in  mathematical 
figures. 

8.  Existence  not  required  to  make  it  real. —  [For  the 
attaining  of  knowledge  and  certainty,  it  is  requisite 
that  we  have  determined  ideas:]  and  to  make  our 
knowledge  real,  it  is  requisite  that  the  ideas  answer 
their  archetypes.  Nor  let  it  be  wondered  that  I  place  the 
certainty  of  our  knowledge  in  the  consideration  of  our 
ideas  with  so  little  care  and  regard  (as  it  may  seem) 
to  the  real  existence  of  things :  since  most  of  those  dis- 
courses which  take  up  the  thoughts  and  engage  the 
disputes  of  those  who  pretend  to  make  it  their  business 
to  inquire  after  truth  and  certainty,  will,  I  presume, 
upon  examination,  be  found  to  be  general  propositions 
and  notions  in  which  existence  is  not  at  all  concerned. 
All  the  discourses  of  the  mathematicians  about  the 
squaring  of  a  circle,  conic  sections,  or  any  other  part  of 
mathematics,  concern  not  the  existence  of  any  of  those 
figures :  but  their  demonstrations,  which  depend  on 
their  ideas,  are  the  same,  whether  there  be  any  square 
or  circle  existing  in  the  world,  or  no.  In  the  same 
manner,  the  truth  and  certainty  of  moral  discourses 
abstracts  from  the  lives  of  men,  and  the  existence  of 
those  virtues  in  the  world  whereof  they  treat :  nor  are 
Tully's  Offices  less  true  because  there  is  nobody  in  the 
world  that  exactly  practises  his  rules,  and  lives  up  to 
that  pattern  of  a  virtuous  man  which  he  has  given  us, 


304     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

and  which  existed  nowhere  when  he  writ  but  in  idea. 
If  it  be  true  in  speculation,  i.  e.,  in  idea,  that  murder 
deserves  death,  it  will  also  be  true  in  reality  of  any 
action  that  exists  conformable  to  that  idea  of  murder. 
As  for  other  actions,  the  truth  of  that  proposition  con- 
cerns them  not.  And  thus  it  is  of  all  other  species  of 
things  which  have  no  other  essences  but  those  ideas 
which  are  in  the  minds  of  men. 

9.  Nor  will  it  be  less  true  or  certain  because  moral 
ideas  are  of  our  own  making  and  naming. —  But  it  will 
here  be  said,  that  "  if  moral  knowledge  be  placed  in 
the  contemplation  of  our  own  moral  ideas,  and  those, 
as  other  modes,  be  of  our  own  making,  what  strange 
notions  will  there  be  of  justice  and  temperance !  What 
confusion  of  virtues  and  vices,  if  every  one  may  make 
what  ideas  of  them  he  pleases ! "  No  confusion  nor 
disorder  in  the  things  themselves,  nor  the  reasonings 
about  them;  no  more  than  (in  mathematics)  there 
would  be  a  disturbance  in  the  demonstration,  or  a 
change  in  the  properties  of  figures  and  their  relations 
one  to  another,  if  a  man  should  make  a  triangle  with 
four  corners,  or  a  trapezium  with  four  right  angles: 
that  is,  in  plain  English,  change  the  names  of  the  fig- 
ures, and  call  that  by  one  name  which  mathematicians 
called  ordinarily  by  another.  For,  let  a  man  make  to 
himself  the  idea  of  a  figure  with  three  angles,  whereof 
one  is  a  right  one,  and  call  it,  if  he  please,  equilaterum 
or  trapezium,  or  any  thing  else,  the  properties  of  and 
demonstrations  about  that  idea  will  be  the  same  as  if 
he  called  it  a  "  rectangular  triangle."  I  confess,  the 
change  of  the  name  by  the  impropriety  of  speech  will 
at  first  disturb  him  who  knows  not  what  idea  it  stands 
for :  but  as  soon  as  the  figure  is  drawn,  the  consequences 
and  demonstrations  are  plain  and  clear.  Just  the  same 


OF  REALITY  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE.       305 

is  it  in  moral  knowledge;  let  a  man  have  the  idea  of 
taking  from  others,  without  their  consent,  what  their 
honest  industry  has  possessed  them  of,  and  call  this 
"  justice,"  if  he  please.  He  that  takes  the  name  here 
without  the  idea  put  to  it,  will  be  mistaken  by  joining 
another  idea  of  his  own  to  that  name :  but  strip  the  idea 
of  that  name,  or  take  it  such  as  it  is  in  the  speaker's 
mind,  and  the  same  things  will  agree  to  it  as  if  you 
called  it  "  injustice."  Indeed,  wrong  names  in  moral 
discourses  breed  usually  more  disorder,  because  they 
are  not  so  easily  rectified  as  in  mathematics,  where  the 
figure  once  drawn  and  seen  makes  the  name  useless 
and  of  no  force.  For  what  need  of  a  sign  when  the 
thing  signified  is  present  and  in  view?  But  in  moral 
names  that  cannot  be  so  easily  and  shortly  done,  because 
of  the  many  decompositions  that  go  to  the  making  up 
the  complex  ideas  of  those  modes.  But  yet,  for  all  this, 
the  miscalling  of  any  of  those  ideas  contrary  to  the  usual 
signification  of  the  words  of  that  language,  hinders 
not  but  that  we  may  have  certain  and  demonstrative 
knowledge  of  their  several  agreements  and  disagree- 
ments, if  we  will  carefully,  as  in  mathematics,  keep  to 
the  same  precise  ideas,  and  trace  them  in  their  several 
relations  one  to  another  without  being  led  away  by 
their  names.  If  we  but  separate  the  idea  under  con- 
sideration from  the  sign  that  stands  for  it,  our  knowl- 
edge goes  equally  on  in  the  discovery  of  real  truth  and 
certainty,  whatever  sounds  we  make  use  of. 

10.  Misnaming  disturbs  not  the  certainty  of  the 
knowledge. —  One  thing  more  we  are  to  take  notice  of, 
that  where  God,  or  any  other  law-maker,  hath  defined 
any  moral  names,  there  they  have  made  the  essence 
of  that  species  to  which  that  name  belongs :  and  there 
it  is  not  safe  to  apply  or  use  them  otherwise:  but  in 


306     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

other  cases  it  is  bare  impropriety  of  speech  to  apply 
them  contrary  to  the  common  usage  of  the  country. 
But  yet  even  this  too  disturbs  not  the  certainty  of  that 
knowledge,  which  is  still  to  be  had  by  a  due  contem- 
plation and  comparing  of  those  even  nick-named  ideas. 

11.  Ideas  of  substances  have  their  archetypes  with- 
out us. —  Thirdly,  There  is  another  sort  of  complex 
ideas,  which  being  referred  to  archetypes  without  us 
may  differ  from  them,  and  so  our  knowledge  about 
them  may  come  short  of  being  real.     Such  are  our 
ideas  of  substances,  which  consisting  of  a  collection 
of  simple  ideas,  supposed  taken  from  the  works  of 
nature,  may  yet  vary  from  them,  by  having  more  or 
different  ideas  united  in  them  than  are  to  be  found 
united  in  the  things  themselves :  from  whence  it  comes 
to  pass,  that  they  may  and  often  do  fail  of  being  exactly 
conformable  to  things  themselves. 

12.  So  far  as  they  agree  with  those,  so  far  our 
knowledge  concerning  them  is  real. —  I  say,  then,  that 
to  have  ideas  of  substances  which,  by  being  conform- 
able to  things,  may  afford  us  real  knowledge,  it  is  not 
enough,  as  in  modes,  to  put  together  such  ideas  as 
have  no  inconsistence,  though  they  did  never  before 
so  exist;  v.  g.,  the  ideas  of  sacrilege  or  perjury,  &c., 
were  as  real  and  true  ideas  before  as  after  the  exist- 
ence of  any  such  fact.     But  our  ideas  of  substances, 
being  supposed  copies,  and  referred  to  archetypes  with- 
out us,  must  still  be  taken  from  something  that  does 
or  has  existed ;  they  must  not  consist  of  ideas  put  to- 
gether at  the  pleasure  of  our  thoughts  without  any  real 
pattern  they  were  taken  from,  though  we  can  perceive 
no  inconsistence  in  such  a  combination.     The  reason 
whereof  is,  because  we  knowing  not  what  real  consti- 
tution it  is  of  substances  wrhereon  our  simple  ideas  de- 


OF  REALITY  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE.       307 

pend,  and  which  really  is  the  cause  of  the  strict  union 
of  some  of  them  one  with  another,  and  the  exclusion 
of  others ;  there  are  very  few  of  them  that  we  can  be 
sure  are  or  are  not  inconsistent  in  nature,  any  farther 
than  experience  and  sensible  observation  reach.  Here- 
in therefore  is  founded  the  reality  of  our  knowledge 
concerning  substances,  that  all  our  complex  ideas  of 
them  must  be  such,  and  such  only,  as  are  made  up  of 
such  simple  ones  as  have  been  discovered  to  co-exist 
in  nature.  And  our  ideas,  being  thus  true,  though  not 
perhaps  very  exact  copies,  are  yet  the  subjects  of  real 
(as  far  as  we  have  any)  knowledge  of  them:  which, 
as  has  been  already  showed,  will  not  be  found  to  reach 
very  far;  but  so  far  as  it  does,  it  will  still  be  real 
knowledge.  Whatever  ideas  we  have,  the  agreement 
we  find  they  have  with  others  will  still  be  knowledge. 
If  those  ideas  be  abstract,  it  will  be  general  knowledge. 
But  to  make  it  real  concerning  substances,  the  ideas 
must  be  taken  from  the  real  existence  of  things.  What- 
ever simple  ideas  have  been  found  to  co-exist  in  any 
substance,  these  we  may  with  confidence  join  together 
again,  and  so  make  abstract  ideas  of  substances.  For 
whatever  have  once  had  an  union  in  nature,  may  be 
united  again. 

13.  In  our  inquiries  about  substances  we  must  con- 
sider ideas,  and  not  confine  our  thoughts  to  names  or 
species  supposed  set  out  by  names. —  This  if  we  rightly 
consider,  and  confine  not  our  thoughts  and  abstract 
ideas  to  names,  as  if  there  were  or  could  be  no  other 
sorts  of  things  than  what  known  names  had  already 
determined,  and,  as  it  were  set  out,  we  should  think 
of  things  with  greater  freedom  and  less  confusion  than 
perhaps  we  do.  It  would  possibly  be  thought  a  bold 
paradox,  if  not  a  very  dangerous  falsehood,  if  I  should 


308     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

say,  that  some  changelings  who  have  lived  forty  years 
together  without  any  appearance  of  reason,  are  some- 
thing between  a  man  and  a  beast:  which  prejudice  is 
founded  upon  nothing  else  but  a  false  supposition,  that 
these  two  names,  "  man  "  and  "  beast,"  stand  for  dis- 
tinct species  so  set  out  by  real  essences,  that  there  can 
come  no  other  species  between  them;  whereas  if  we 
will  abstract  from  those  names,  and  the  supposition  of 
such  specific  essences  made  by  nature,  wherein  all 
things  of  the  same  denominations  did  exactly  and  equal- 
ly partake;  if  we  would  not  fancy  that  there  were  a 
certain  number  of  these  essences  wherein  all  things,  as 
in  moulds,  were  cast  and  formed ;  we  should  find  that 
the  idea  of  the  shape,  motion,  and  life  of  a  man  without 
reason  is  as  much  a  distinct  idea,  and  makes  as  much 
a  distinct  sort  of  things  from  man  and  beast,  as  the 
idea  of  the  shape  of  an  ass  with  reason  would  be  differ- 
ent, from  either  that  of  man  or  beast  and  be  a  species  of 
an  animal  between  or  distinct  from  both. 

14.  Objection  against  a  changeling  being  something 
between  a  man  and  a  beast,  answered. —  Here  every 
body  will  be  ready  to  ask,  "  If  changelings  may  be 
supposed  something  between  man  and  beast,  pray  what 
are  they  ? "  I  answer,  "  Changelings,"  which  is  as 
good  a  word  to  signify  something  different  from  the 
signification  of  "  man "  or  "  beast,"  as  the  names 
"  man  "  and  "  beast  "  are  to  have  significations  differ- 
ent one  from  the  other.  This,  well  considered,  would 
resolve  this  matter,  and  show  my  meaning  without  any 
more  ado.  But  I  am  not  so  unacquainted  with  the 
zeal  of  some  men,  which  enables  them  to  spin  conse- 
quences, and  to  see  religion  threatened  whenever  any 
one  ventures  to  quit  their  forms  of  speaking,  as  not 
to  foresee  what  names  such  a  proposition  as  this  is 


OF  REALITY  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE.       309 

like  to  be  charged  with:  and  without  doubt  it  will  be 
asked,  "If  changelings  are  something  between  man 
and  beast,  what  will  become  of  them  in  the  other 
world  ? "  To  which  I  answer,  First,  It  concerns  me 
not  to  know  or  inquire.  To  their  own  Master  they 
stand  or  fall.  It  will  make  their  state  neither  better  nor 
worse,  whether  we  determine  any  thing  of  it  or  no. 
They  are  in  the  hands  of  a  faithful  Creator  and  a  boun- 
tiful Father,  who  disposes  not  of  his  creatures  accord- 
ing to  our  narrow  thoughts  or  opinions,  nor  distin- 
guishes them  according  to  names  and  species  of  our 
contrivance.  And  we  that  know  so  little  of  this  present 
world  we  are  in,  may  I  think,  content  ourselves  without 
being  peremptory  in  defining  the  different  states  which 
creatures  shall  come  into  when  they  go  off  this  stage. 
It  may  suffice  us  that  He  hath  made  known  to  all  those 
who  are  capable  of  instruction,  discourse,  and  reason- 
ing, that  they  shall  come  to  an  account,  and  receive 
according  to  what  they  have  done  in  this  body. 

15.  But,  Secondly,  I  answer,  The  force  of  these 
men's  question  (viz.,  "  Will  you  deprive  changelings 
of  a  future  state?  ")  is  founded  on  one  of  two  suppo- 
sitions, which  are  both  false.  The  first  is,  that  all 
things  that  have  the  outward  shape  and  appearance  of 
a  man  must  necessarily  be  designed  to  an  immortal  fu- 
ture being  after  this  life.  Or,  secondly,  that  whatever 
is  of  human  birth  must  be  so.  Take  away  these  imag- 
inations, and  such  questions  will  be  groundless  and  ri- 
diculous. I  desire,  then,  those  who  think  there  is  no 
more  but  an  accidental  difference  between  themselves 
and  changelings,  the  essence  in  both  being  exactly  the 
same,  to  consider  whether  they  can  imagine  immor- 
tality annexed  to  any  outward  shape  of  the  body;  the 
very  proposing  it  is,  I  suppose,  enough  to  make  them 


310     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

disown  it.  No  one  yet  that  ever  I  heard  of,  how  much 
soever  immersed  in  matter,  allowed  that  excellency  to 
any  figure  of  the  gross  sensible  outward  parts,  as  to 
affirm  eternal  life  due  to  it,  or  a  necessary  consequence 
of  it ;  or  that  any  mass  of  matter  should,  after  its  dis- 
solution here,  be  again  restored  hereafter  to  an  ever- 
lasting state  of  sense,  perception,  and  knowledge,  only 
because  it  was  moulded  into  this  or  that  figure,  and  had 
such  a  particular  frame  of  its  visible  parts.  Such  an 
opinion  as  this,  placing  immortality  in  a  certain  super- 
ficial figure,  turns  out  of  doors  all  consideration  of 
soul  or  spirit ;  upon  whose  account  alone  some  corpor- 
eal beings  have  hitherto  been  concluded  immortal, 
and  others  not.  This  is  to  attribute  more  to  the  out- 
side than  inside  of  things ;  to  place  the  excellency  of 
a  man  more  in  the  external  shape  of  his,  body  than  in- 
ternal perfections  of  his  soul :  which  is  but  little  better 
than  to  annex  the  great  and  inestimable  advantage  of 
immortality  and  life  everlasting,  which  he  has  above 
other  material  beings,  to  annex  it,  I  say,  to  the  cut  of 
his  beard,  or  the  fashion  of  his  coat.  For,  this  or  that 
outward  mark  of  our  bodies  no  more  carries  with  it  the 
hopes  of  an  eternal  duration,  than  the  fashion  of  a 
man's  suit  gives  him  reasonable  grounds  to  imagine 
it  will  never  wear  out,  or  that  it  will  make  him  immor- 
tal. It  will  perhaps  be  said,  that  nobody  thinks  that  the 
shape  makes  any  thing  immortal,  but  it  is  the  shape  is 
the  sign  of  a  rational  soul  within,  which  is  immortal. 
I  wonder  who  made  it  the  sign  of  any  such  thing:  for 
barely  saying  it  will  not  make  it  so.  It  would  require 
some  proofs  to  persuade  one  of  it.  No  figure  that  I 
know  speaks  any  such  language.  For  it  may  as  ra- 
tionally be  concluded,  that  the  dead  body  of  a  man, 
wherein  there  is  to  be  found  no  more  appearance  or 


OF  REALITY  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE.        311 

action  of  life  than  there  is  in  a  statue,  has  yet  never- 
theless a  living  soul  in  it,  because  of  its  shape ;  as  that 
there  is  a  rational  soul  in  a  changeling,  because  he  has 
the  outside  of  a  rational  creature,  when  his  actions 
carry  far  less  marks  of  reason  with  them  in  the  whole 
course  of  his  life  than  what  are  to  be  found  in  many  a 
beast. 

1 6.  Monsters. —  "  But  it  is  the  issue  of  rational  par- 
ents, and  must  therefore  be  concluded  to  have  a  rational 
soul."  I  know  not  by  what  logic  you  must  so  con- 
clude. I  am  sure  this  is  a  conclusion  that  men  no 
where  allow  of.  For,  if  they  did,  they  would  not  make 
bold,  as  every  where  they  do,  to  destroy  ill-formed  and 
mis-shaped  productions.  "  Ay,  but  these  are  mon- 
sters." Let  them  be  so ;  what  will  your  drivelling,  un- 
intelligent, intractable  changeling  be?  Shall  a  defect 
in  the  body  make  a  monster ;  a  defect  in  the  mind  (the 
far  more  noble  and  in  the  common  phrase,  the  far  more 
essential  part)  not?  Shall  the  want  of  a  nose  or  a 
neck  make  a  monster,  and  put  such  issue  out  of  the 
rank  of  men;  the  want  of  reason  and  understanding 
not  ?  This  is  to  bring  all  back  again  to  what  was  ex- 
ploded just  now :  this  is  to  place  all  in  the  shape,  and  to 
take  the  measure  of  a  man  only  by  his  outside.  To 
show  that,  according  to  the  ordinary  way  of  reasoning 
in  this  matter,  people  do  lay  the  whole  stress  on  the 
figure,  and  resolve  the  whole  essence  of  the  species  of 
man  (as  they  make  it)  into  the  outward  shape,  how 
unreasonable  soever  it  be,  and  how  much  soever  they 
disown  it,  we  need  but  trace  their  thoughts  and  prac- 
tice a  little  farther,  and  then  it  will  plainly  appear. 
The  well-shaped  changeling  is  a  man,  has  a  rational 
soul,  though  it  appear  not :  "  This  is  past  doubt,"  say 
you.  Make  the  ears  a  little  longer  and  more  pointed, 


3i2     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING 

and  the  nose  a  little  flatter,  than  ordinary,  and  then  you 
begin  to  boggle:  make  the  face  yet  narrower,  flatter, 
and  longer,  and  then  you  are  at  a  stand :  add  still  more 
and  more  of  the  likeness  of  a  brute  to  it,  and  let  the 
head  be  perfectly  that  of  some  other  animal,  then  pres- 
ently it  is  a  monster ;  and  it  is  demonstration  with  you 
that  it  hath  no  rational  soul,  and  must  be  destroyed. 
Where  now,  I  ask,  shall  be  the  just  measure  of  the 
utmost  bounds  of  that  shape  that  carries  with  it  a  ra- 
tional soul  ?  For,  since  there  have  been  human  foetuses 
produced,  half  beast  and  half  man ;  and  others  three 
parts  one,  and  one  part  the  other ;  and  so  it  is  possible 
they  may  be  in  all  the  variety  of  approaches  to  the  one 
or  the  other  shape,  and  may  have  several  degrees  of 
mixture  of  the  likeness  of  a  man  or  a  brute ;  I  would 
gladly  know  what  are  those  precise  lineaments  which, 
according  to  this  hypothesis,  are  or  are  not  capable 
of  a  rational  soul  to  be  joined  to  them?  What  sort  of 
outside  is  the  certain  sign  that  there  is  or  is  not  such  an 
inhabitant  within?  For,  till  that  be  done,  we  talk  at 
random  of  man ;  and  shall  always,  I  fear,  do  so  as  long 
as  we  give  ourselves  up  to  certain  sounds,  and  the 
imaginations  of  settled  and  fixed  species  in  nature,  we 
know  not  what.  But,  after  all,  I  desire  it  may  be  con- 
sidered that  those  who  think  they  have  answered  the 
difficulty  by  telling  us  that  a  mis-shaped  foetus  is  a  mon- 
ster, run  into  the  same  fault  they  are  arguing  against, 
by  constituting  a  species  between  man  and  beast.  For 
what  else,  I  pray,  is  their  monster  in  the  case  (if  the 
word  "  monster  "  signifies  any  thing  at  all),  but  some- 
thing neither  man  nor  beast,  but  partaking  somewhat 
of  either?  And  just  so  is  the  changeling  before  men- 
tioned. So  necessary  is  it  to  quit  the  common  notion 
of  species  and  essences,  if  we  will  truly  look  into  the 


OF  REALITY  OF  HUMAN  KNOWLEDGE.        3*3 

nature  of  things,  and  examine  them  by  what  our  facul- 
ties can  discover  in  them  as  they  exist,  and  not  by 
groundless  fancies  that  have  been  taken  up  about  them. 

17.  Words  and  species. —  I   have   mentioned   this 
here,  because  I  think  we  cannot  be  too  cautious  that 
words  and  species,  in  the  ordinary  notions  which  we 
have  been  used  to  of  them,  impose  not  on  us.     For,  I 
am  apt  to  think,  therein  lies  one  great  obstacle  to  our 
clear  and  distinct  knowledge,  especially  in  reference  to 
substances ;  and  from  thence  has  rose  a  great  part  of  the 
difficulties  about  truth  and  certainty.     Would  we  ac- 
custom ourselves  to  separate  our  contemplations  and 
reasonings  from  words,  we  might,  in  a  great  measure, 
remedy  this  inconvenience  within  our  own  thoughts : 
but  yet  it  would  still  disturb  us  in  our  discourse  with 
others,  as  long  as  we  retain  the  opinion,  that  species 
and  their  essences  were  any  thing  else  but  our  abstract 
ideas,  (such  as  they  are,)  with  names  annexed  to  them 
to  be  the  signs  of  them. 

1 8.  Recapitulation, — Wherever    we    perceive    the 
agreement  or  disagreement  of  any  of  our  ideas,  there 
is  certain  knowledge:  and  wherever  we  are  sure  those 
ideas  agree  with  the  reality  of  things,  there  is  certain 
real  knowledge.    Of  which  agreement  of  our  ideas  with 
the  reality  of  things  having  here  given  the  marks,  I 
think  I  have  shown  wherein  it  is  that  certainty,  real 
certainty,  consists.     Which,  whatever  it  was  to  others, 
was,  I  confess,  to  me  heretofore  one  of  those  desiderata 
which  I  found  great  want  of. 


f  14     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 
CHAPTER  IX. 

OF  OUP   THREEFOLD   KNOWLEDGE   OF    EXISTENCE. 

1.  General  certain  propositions  concern  not  exist- 
ence.—  Hitherto  we  have  only  considered  the  essences 
of  things,  which,  being  only  abstract  ideas,  and  thereby 
removed  in  our  thoughts   from  particular   existence, 
(that  being  the  proper  operation  of  the  mind  in  ab- 
straction, to  consider  an  idea  under  no  other  existence 
but  what  it  has  in  the  understanding,)   gives  us  no 
knowledge  of  real  existence  at  all.     Where,  by  the  way, 
we  may  take  notice,  that  universal  propositions,  of 
whose  truth  or  falsehood  we  can  have  certain  knowl- 
edge, concern  not  existence;  and  farther,  that  all  par- 
ticular  affirmations   or  negations  that  would  not  be 
certain  if  they  were  made  general,  are  only  concerning 
existence;  they  declaring  only  the  accidental  union  or 
separation  of  ideas  in  things  existing,  which  in  their 
abstract  natures  have  no  known  necessary  union  or 
repugnancy. 

2.  A  threefold  knowledge  of  existence. —  But  leav- 
ing the  nature  of  propositions,  and  different  ways  of 
predication,  to  be  considered  more  at  large  in  another 
place,  let  us  proceed  now  to  inquire  concerning  our 
knowledge  of  the  existence  of  things,  and  how  we 
come  by  it.     I  say  then,  that  we  have  the  knowledge 
of  our  own  existence  by  intuition ;  of  the  existence  of 
God  by  demonstration;  and  of  other  things  by  sensa- 
tion. 

3.  Our  knoivledge  of  our  otvn  existence  is  intuitive. 
—  As  for  our  own  existence,  we  perceive  it  so  plainly 
and  so  certainly  that  it  neither  needs  nor  is  capable 
of  any  proof.     For  nothing  can  be  more  evident  to  us 


OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  OF  EXISTENCE.        315 

than  our  own  existence.  I  think,  I  reason,  I  feel 
pleasure  and  pain :  can  any  of  these  be  more  evident  to 
me  than  my  own  existence?  If  I  doubt  of  all  other 
things,  that  very  doubt  makes  me  perceive  my  own 
existence,  and  will  not  suffer  me  to  doubt  of  that.  For, 
if  I  know  I  feel  pain,  it  is  evident  I  have  as  certain 
perception  of  my  own  existence,  as  of  the  existence  of 
the  pain  I  feel :  or  if  I  know  I  doubt,  I  have  as  certain 
perception  of  the  existence  of  the  thing  doubting,  as 
of  that  thought  which  I  call  "  doubt."  Experience, 
then,  convinces  us  that  we  have  an  intuitive  knowledge 
of  our  own  existence,  and  an  internal  infallible  per- 
ception that  we  are.  In  every  act  of  sensation,  reason- 
ing, or  thinking,  we  are  conscious  to  ourselves  of  our 
own  being;  and,  in  this  matter,  come  not  short  of  the 
highest  degree  of  certainty. 

CHAPTER  X. 

OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  OF  THE  EXISTENCE  OF  A  GOD. 

i.  We  are  capable  of  knowing  certainly  that  there 
is  a  God. —  Though  God  has  given  us  no  innate  ideas  of 
himself ;  though  he  has  stamped  no  original  characters 
on  our  minds,  wherein  we  may  read  his  being ;  yet,  hav- 
ing furnished  us  with  those  faculties  our  minds  are 
endowed  with,  he  hath  not  left  himself  without  wit- 
ness ;  since  we  have  sense,  perception,  and  reason,  and 
cannot  want  a  clear  proof  of  him  as  long  as  we  carry 
ourselves  about  us.  Nor  can  we  justly  complain  of  our 
ignorance  in  this  great  point,  since  he  has  so  plenti- 
fully provided  us  with  the  means  to  discover  and  know 
him,  so  far  as  is  necessary  to  the  end  of  our  being, 
and  the  great  concernment  of  our  happiness.  But 


316     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

though  this  be  the  most  obvious  truth  that  reason  dis- 
covers, and  though  its  evidence  be  (if  I  mistake  not) 
equal  to  mathematical  certainty ;  yet  it  requires  thought 
and  attention,  and  the  mind  must  apply  itself  to  a 
regular  deduction  of  it  from  some  part  of  our  intuitive 
knowledge,  or  else  we  shall  be  as  uncertain  and  igno- 
rant of  this  as  of  other  propositions  which  are  in  them- 
selves capable  of  clear  demonstration.  To  show, 
therefore,  that  we  are  capable  of  knowing,  i.  e.,  being 
certain,  that  there  is  a  God,  and  how  we  may  come  by 
this  certainty,  I  think  we  need  go  no  farther  than  our- 
selves, and  that  undoubted  knowledge  we  have  of  our 
own  existence. 

2.  Man  knows  that  he  himself  is. —  I  think  it  is 
beyond   question,  that  man   has  a  clear  idea  of  his 
own  being ;  he  knows  certainly  that  he  exists,  and  that 
he  is  something.     He  that  can  doubt  whether  he  be 
any  thing  or  no,  I  speak  not  to ;  no  more  than  I  would 
argue  with  pure  nothing,  or  endeavour  to  convince 
nonentity  that  it  were  something.     If  any  one  pretends 
to  be  so  sceptical  as  to  deny  his  own  existence  (for 
really  to  doubt  of  it  is  manifestly  impossible),  let  him, 
for  me,  enjoy  his  beloved  happiness  of  being  nothing, 
until  hunger  or  some  other  pain  convince  him  of  the 
contrary.     This,  then,  I  think  I  may  take  for  a  truth, 
which  every  one's  certain  knowledge  assures  him  of 
beyond  the  liberty  of  doubting,  viz.,  that  he  is  some- 
thing that  actually  exists. 

3.  He  knows  also  that  nothing  cannot  produce  a 
being,  therefore  something  eternal. —  In  the  next  place, 
man  knows  by  an  intuitive  certainty  that  bare  nothing 
can  no  more  produce  any  real  being,  than  it  can  be 
equal  to  two  right  angles.     If  a  man  knows  not  that 
nonentity,  or  the  absence  of  all  being,  cannot  be  equal 


OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  OF  A  GOD.  31? 

to  two  right  angles,  it  is  impossible  he  should  know 
any  demonstration  in  Euclid.  If  therefore  we  know 
there  is  some  real  being,  and  that  nonentity  cannot 
produce  any  real  being,  i£  is  an  evident  demonstration, 
that  from  eternity  there  has  been  something;  since 
what  was  not  from  eternity  had  a  beginning ;  and  what 
had  a  beginning  must  be  produced  by  something  else. 

4.  That  Eternal  Being  must  be  most  powerful. — 
Next,  it  is  evident,  that  what  had  its  being  and  begin- 
ning from  another,  must  also,  have  all  that  which  is 
in  and  belongs  to  its  being  from  another  too.     All  the 
powers  it  has,  must  be  owing  to  and  received  from  the 
same  source.     This  eternal  source,  then,  of  all  being, 
must  also  be  the  source  and  original  of  all  power ;  and 
so  this  Eternal  Being  must  be  also  the  most  powerful. 

5.  And   most   knowing. —  Again:   a  man  finds  in 
himself  perception  and  knowledge.     We  have-then  got 
one  step  farther ;  and  we  are  certain  now  that  there  is 
not  only  some  being,  but  some  knowing,  intelligent 
being  in  the  world. 

There  was  a  time,  then,  when  there  was  no  knowing 
being,  and  when  knowledge  began  to  be ;  or  else  there 
has  been  also  a  knowing  Being  from  eternity.  If  it  be 
said,  "  There  was  a  time  when  no  being  had  any  knowl- 
edge, when  that  Eternal  Being  was  void  of  all  under- 
standing ;  "  I  reply,  that  then  it  was  impossible  there 
should  ever  have  been  any  knowledge ;  it  being  as  im- 
possible that  things  wholly  void  of  knowledge,  and 
operating  blindly  and  without  any  perception,  should 
produce  a  knowing  being,  as  it  is  impossible  that  a  tri- 
angle should  make  itself  three  angles  bigger  than  two 
right  ones.  For.it  is  as  repugnant  to  the  idea  of  sense- 
less matter  that  it  should  put  into  itself  sense,  percep- 
tion, and  knowledge,  as  it  is  repugnant  to  the  idea  of  a 


318     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

triangle  that  it  should  put  into  itself  greater  angles 
than  two  right  ones. 

6.  And  therefore  God. —  Thus  from  the  considera- 
tion of  ourselves,  and  what  we  infallibly  find  in  our 
own  constitutions,  our  reason  leads  us  to  the  knowl- 
edge of  this  certain  and  evident  truth,  that  there  is  an 
eternal,  most  powerful,  and  most  knowing  Being; 
which  whether  any  one  will  please  to  call  "  God,"  it 
matters  not.  The  thing  is  evident ;  and  from  this 
idea  duly  considered,  will  easily  be  deduced  all  those 
other  attributes  which  we  ought  to  ascribe  to  this 
Eternal  being.  [If,  nevertheless,  any  one  should  be 
found  so  senselessly  arrogant  as  to  suppose  man  alone 
knowing  and  wise,  but  yet  the  product  of  mere  ig- 
norance and  chance;  and  that  all  the  rest  of  the  uni- 
verse acted  only  by  that  blind  hap-hazard ;  I  shall  leave 
with  him  that  very  rational  and  emphatical  rebuke  of 
Tully,  lib.  ii.  De  Leg.,  to  be  considered  at  his  leisure : 
"  What  can  be  more  sillily  arrogant  and  misbecoming 
than  for  a  man  to  think  that  he  has  a  mind  and  under- 
standing in  him,  but  yet  in  all  the  universe  beside  there 
is  no  such  thing?  or  that  those  things  which,  with  the 
utmost  stretch  of  his  reason,  he  can  scarce  comprehend, 
should  be  moved  and  managed  without  any  reason  at 
all  ?  "  Quid  est  enim  verius  quam  neminem  esse  opor- 
tere  tarn  stulte  arrogantem,  tit  in  se  mentem  et  rationem 
putet  inesse,  in  ccelo  mundoque  non  putetf  Aut  ea 
qua  vix  summa  ingenii  ratione  comprehendat,  nulla  ra- 
tione  moveri  putetf] 

From  what  has  been  said,  it  is  plain  to  me  we  have 
a  more  certain  knowledge  of  the  existence  of  a  God, 
than  of  any  thing  our  senses  have  not  immediately 
discovered  to  us.  Nay,  I  presume  I  may  say,  that  we 
more  certainly  know  that  there  is  a  God,  than  that  there 


OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  OF  A  GOD.  319 

is  any  thing  else  without  us.  When  I  say  "  we  know," 
I  mean  there  is  such  a  knowledge  within  our  reach 
which  we  cannot  miss,  if  we  will  but  apply  our  minds 
to  that  as  we  do  to  several  other  inquiries. 

7.  Our  idea  of  a  most  perfect  being,  not  the  sole 
proof  of  a  God. —  How  far  the  idea  of  a  most  perfect 
being  which  a  man  may  frame  in  his  mind,  does  or 
does  not  prove  the  existence  of  a  God,  I  will  not  here 
examine.  For,  in  the  different  make  of  men's  tempers, 
and  application  of  their  thoughts,  some  arguments  pre- 
vail more  on  one,  and  some  on  another,  for  the  confir- 
mation of  the  same  truth.  But  yet,  I  think  this  I  may 
say,  that  it  is  an  ill  way  of  establishing  this  truth  and 
silencing  atheists,  to  lay  the  whole  stress  of  so  impor- 
tant a  point  as  this  upon  that  sole  foundation :  and  take 
some  men's  having  that  idea  of  God  in  their  minds  (for 
it  is  evident  some  men  have  none,  and  some  worse  than 
none,  and  the  most  very  different)  for  the  only  proof 
of  a  Deity ;  and  out  of  an  over-fondness  of  that  darling 
invention,  cashier,  or  at  least  endeavour  to  invalidate, 
all  other  arguments,  and  forbid  us  to  hearken  to  those 
proofs,  as  being  weak  or  fallacious,  which  our  own  ex- 
istence and  the  sensible  parts  of  the  universe  offer  so 
clearly  and  cogently  to  our  thoughts,  that  I  deem  it 
impossible  for  a  considering  man  to  withstand  them. 
For  I  judge  it  as  certain  and  clear  a  truth  as  can  any 
where  be  delivered,  that  "  the  invisible  things  of  God 
are  clearly  seen  from  the  creation  of  the  world,  being 
understood  by  the  things  that  are  made,  even  his  eter- 
nal power  and  Godhead."  Though  our  own  being  fur- 
nishes us,  as  I  have  shown,  with  an  evident  and  incon- 
testable proof  of  a  Deity;  and  I  believe  nobody  can 
avoid  the  cogency  of  it  who  will  but  as  carefully  attend 
to  it  as  to  any  other  demonstration  of  so  many  parts; 


320     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

yet  this  being  so  fundamental  a  truth,  and  of  that 
consequence  that  all  religion  and  genuine  morality  de- 
pend thereon,  I  doubt  not  but  I  shall  be  forgiven  by  my 
reader  if  I  go  over  some  parts  of  this  argument  again, 
and  enlarge  a  little  more  upon  them. 

8.  Something  from  eternity. —  There   is  no  truth 
more  evident  than  that  something  must  be  from  eter- 
nity.    I  never  yet  heard  of  any  one  so  unreasonable, 
or  that  could  suppose  so  manifest  a  contradiction,  as 
a  time  wherein  there  was  perfectly  nothing ;  this  being 
of  all  absurdities  the  greatest,  to  imagine. that  pure 
nothing,  the  perfect  negation  and  absence  of  all  beings, 
should  ever  produce  any  real  existence. 

It  being  then  unavoidable  for  all  rational  creatures 
to  conclude  that  something  has  existed  from  eternity, 
let  us  next  see  what  kind  of  thing  that  must  be. 

9.  Two  sorts  of,  beings  cogitative  and  incogitative. 

—  There  are  but  two  sorts  of  beings  in  the  world  that 
man  knows  or  conceives :  — 

First,  Such  as  are  purely  material,  without  sense, 
perception,  or  thought,  as  the  clippings  of  our  beards 
and  parings  of  our  nails. 

Secondly,  Sensible,  thinking,  perceiving  beings,  such 
as  we  find  ourselves  to  be;  which,  if  you  please,  we  will 
hereafter  call  "  cogitative  and  incogitative  beings ;  " 
which,  to  our  present^  purpose,  if  for  nothing  else,  are 
perhaps  better  terms  than  "  material  and  immaterial." 

10.  Incogitative  being  cannot  produce  a  cogitative. 

—  If  then  there  must  be  something  eternal,  let  us  see 
what  sort  of  being  it  must  be.     And  to  that  it  is  very 
obvious  to  reason,  that  it  must  necessarily  be  a  cogita- 
tive being.     For  it  is  as  impossible  to  conceive  that 
ever  bare  incogitative  matter  should  produce  a  thinking 
intelligent  being,  as  that  nothing  should  of  itself  pro- 


OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  OF  A  GOD.  321 

duce  matter.  Let  us  suppose  any  parcel  of  matter 
eternal,  great  or  small,  we  shall  find  it  in  itself  able 
to  produce  nothing.  For  example :  Let  us  suppose  the 
matter  of  the  next  pebble  we  meet  with,  eternal,  closely 
united,  and  the  parts  firmly  at  rest  together;  if  there 
were  no  other  being  in  the  world,  must  it  not  eternally 
remain  so,  a  dead,  inactive  lump?  Is  it  possible  to 
conceive  it  can  add  motion  to  itself,  being  purely  mat- 
ter, or  produce  any  thing?  Matter,  then,  by  its  own 
strength,  cannot  produce  in  itself  so  much  as  motion : 
the  motion  it  has  must  also  be  from  eternity,  or  else 
be  produced  and  added  to  matter  by  some  other  being 
more  powerful  than  matter :  matter,  as  is  evident,  hav- 
ing not  power  to  produce  motion  in  itself.  But  let  us 
suppose  motion  eternal  too;  yet  matter,  incogitative 
matter  and  motion,  whatever  changes  it  might  produce 
of  figure  and  bulk,  could  never  produce  thought. 
Knowledge  will  still  be  as  far  beyond  the  power  of  mo- 
tion and  matter  to  produce,  as  matter  is  beyond  the 
power  of  nothing  or  nonentity  to  produce.  And  I 
appeal  to  every  one's  own  thoughts,  whether  he  can- 
not as  easily  conceive  matter  produced  by  nothing,  as 
thought  to  be  produced  by  pure  matter,  when  before 
there  was  no  such  thing  as  thought  or  an  intelligent  be- 
ing existing.  Divide  matter  into  as  minute  parts  as 
you  will,  which  we  are  apt  to  imagine  a  sort  of  spirit- 
ualizing or  making  a  thinking  thing  of  it ;  vary  the  fig- 
ure and  motion  of  it  as  much  as  you  please;  a  globe, 
cube,  cone,  prism,  cylinder,  &c.,  whose  diameters  are 
but  ioo,oooth  part  of  a  gry,*  will  operate  no  otherwise 


*  A  gry  is  one-tenth  of  a  line,  a  line  one-tenth  of  an  inch,  an 
inch  one-tenth  of  a  philosophical  foot,  a  philosophical  foot 
one-third  of  a  pendulum,  whose  diadroms,  in  the  latitude  of 
forty-five  degrees,  are  each  equal  to  one  second  of  time,  or 


322     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

upon  other  bodies  of  proportionable  bulk  than  those  of 
an  inch  or  foot  diameter;  and  you  may  as  rationally 
expect  to  produce  sense,  thought,  and  knowledge,  by 
putting  together  in  a  certain  figure  and  motion 
gross  particles  of  matter,  as  by  those  that  are  the 
very  minutest  that  do  any  where  exist.  They  knock, 
impel,  and  resist  one  another  just  as  the  greater  do, 
and  that  is  all  they  can  do.  So  that,  if  we  will  sup- 
pose nothing  first  or  eternal,  matter  can  never  begin 
to  be;  if  we  will  suppose  bare  matter  without  motion, 
eternal  motion  can  never  begin  to  be;  if  we  suppose 
only  matter  and  motion  first,  or  eternal,  thought  can 
never  begin  to  be.  [For  it  is  impossible  to  conceive 
that  matter,  either  with  or  without  motion  could  have 
originally  in  and  from  itself,  sense,  perception,  and 
knowledge,  as  is  evident  from  hence,  that  then  sense, 
perception,  and  knowledge  must  be  a  property  eternally 
inseparable  from  matter  and  every  particle  of  it.  Not 
to  add,  that  though  our  general  or  specific  conception 
of  matter  makes  us  speak  of  it  as  one  thing,  yet  really 
all  matter  is  not  one  individual  thing,  neither  is  there 
any  such  thing  existing  as  one  material  being,  or  one 
single  body,  that  we  know  or  can  conceive.  And  there- 
fore, if  matter  were  the  eternal  first  cogitative  being, 
there  would  not  be  one  eternal  infinite  cogitative  being, 
but  an  infinite  number  of  eternal  finite  cogitative  beings 
independent  one  of  another,  of  limited  force  and  dis- 
tinct thoughts,  which  could  never  produce  that  order, 
harmony,  and  beauty,  which  are  to  be  found  in  nature. 


one-sixtieth  of  a  minute.  I  have  affectedly  made  use  of  this 
measure  here,  and  the  parts  of  it,  under  a  decimal  division, 
with  names  to  them ;  because  I  think  it  would  be  of  general 
convenience,  that  this  should  be  the  common  measure  in  the 
commonwealth  of  letters. 


OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  OF  A  GOD.  323 

Since,  therefore,  whatsoever  is  the  first  eternal  being 
must  necessarily  be  cogitative ;  and]  whatsoever  is  first 
of  all  things  must  necessarily  contain  in  it,  and  actually 
have,  at  least,  all  the  perfections  that  can  ever  after 
exist ;  nor  can  it  ever  give  to  another  any  perfection 
that  it  hath  not,  either  actually  in  itself  or  at  least  in  a 
higher  degree;  [it  necessarily  follows,  that  the  first 
eternal  being  cannot  be  matter.] 

11.  Therefore  there  has  been  an  eternal  wisdom. — 
If,  therefore,  it  be  evident  that  something  necessarily 
must  exist  from  eternity,  it  is  also  as  evident  that  that 
something  must  necessarily  be  a  cogitative  being;  for 
it  is  as  impossible  that  incogitative  matter  should  pro- 
duce a  cogitative  being,  as  that  nothing,  or  the  negation 
of  all  being,  should  produce  a  positive  being  or  mat- 
ter. 

12.  Though  this  discovery  of  the  necessary  exist- 
ence of  an  eternal  mind  does  sufficiently  lead  us  into 
the  knowledge  of  God,  since  it  will  hence  follow  that 
all  other  knowing  beings  that  have  a  beginning  must 
depend  on  him,  and  have  no  other  ways  of  knowledge 
or  extent  of  power  than  what  he  gives  them ;  and  there- 
fore if  he  made  those,  he  made  also  the  less  excellent 
pieces  of  this  universe,  all  inanimate  beings,  whereby 
his  omniscience,  power,  and  providence  will  be  estab- 
lished, and  all  his  other  attributes  necessarily  follow : 
yet,  to  clear  up  this  a  little  farther,  we  will  see  what 
doubts  can  be  raised  against  it. 

13.  Whether  material  or  no — First,  Perhaps  it  will 
be  said,  that  though  it  be  as  clear  as  demonstration  can 
make  it,  that  there  must  be  an  eternal  being,  and  that 
being  must  also  be  knowing;  yet,  it  does  not  follow 
but  that  thinking  being  may  also  be  material.     Let  it 
be  so ;  it  equally  still  follows  that  there  is  a  God.     For 


324     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

if  there  be  an  eternal,  omniscient,  omnipotent  being,  it 
is  certain  that  there  is  a  God,  whether  you  imagine  that 
being  to  be  material  or  no.  But  herein,  I  suppose,  lies 
the  danger  and  deceit  of  that  supposition :  there  being 
no  way  to  avoid  the  demonstration,  that  there  is  an 
eternal  knowing  Being,  men  devoted  to  matter  would 
willingly  have  it  granted  that  this  knowing  Being  is 
material;  and  then  letting  slide  out  of  their  minds, 
or  the  discourse,  the  demonstration  whereby  an  eternal 
knowing  Being  was  proved  necessarily  to  exist,  would 
argue  all  to  be  matter,  and  so  deny  a  God,  that  is,  an 
eternal  cogitative  Being ;  whereby  they  are  so  far  from 
establishing,  that  they  destroy,  their  own  hypothesis. 
For  if  there  can  be,  in  their  opinion,  eternal  matter 
without  any  eternal  cogitative  Being,  they  manifestly 
separate  matter  and  thinking,  and  suppose  no  neces- 
sary connexion  of  the  one  with  the  other,  and  so  es- 
tablish the  necessity  of  an  eternal  Spirit,  but  not  of 
matter ;  since  it  has  been  proved  already,  that  an  eter- 
nal cogitative  Being  is  unavoidably  to  be  granted. 
Now,  if  'thinking  and  matter  may  be  separated,  the 
eternal  existence  of  matter  will  not  follow  from  the 
eternal  existence  of  a  cogitative  Being,  and  they  sup- 
pose it  to  no  purpose. 

14.  Not  material:  First,  Because  every  particle  of 
matter  is  not  cogitative. —  But  now  let  us  see  how  they 
can  satisfy  themselves  or  others,  that  this  eternal  think- 
ing Being  is  material. 

First,  I  would  ask  them,  whether  they  imagine  that 
all  matter,  every  particle  of  matter,  thinks?  This,  I 
suppose,  they  will  scarce  say,  since  then  there  would  be 
as  many  eternal  thinking  beings  as  there  are  particles 
of  matter  and  so  an  infinity  of  gods.  And  yet,  if  they 
will  not  allow  matter  as  matter,  that  is,  every  particle 


OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  OF  A  GOD.  325 

of  matter,  to  be  as  well  cogitative  as  extended,  they 
will  have  as  hard  a  task  to  make  out  to  their  own  rea- 
sons a  cogitative  being  out  of  incogitative  particles, 
as  an  extended  being  out  of  unextended  parts,  if  I 
may  so  speak. 

15.  Secondly,  One  particle  alone  of  matter  cannot 
be  cogitative. —  Secondly,  If  all  matter  does  not  think, 
I  next  ask,  whether  it  be  only  one  atom  that  does  so? 
This  has  as  many  absurdities  as  the  other ;  for  then  this 
atom  of  matter  must  be  alone  eternal  or  not.     If  this 
alone  be  eternal,  then  this  alone,  by  its  powerful  thought 
or  will,  made  all  the  rest  of  matter.     And  so  we  have 
the  creation  of  matter  by  a  powerful  thought,  which 
is  that  the  materialists  stick  at:  for,  if  they  suppose 
one  single  thinking  atom  to  have  produced  all  the 
rest  of  matter,  they  cannot  ascribe  that  pre-eminency  to 
it  upon  any  other  account  than  that  of  its  thinking, 
the  only  supposed  difference.     But  allow  it  to  be  by 
some  other  way  which  is  above  our  conception,  it  must 
be  still  creation ;  and  these  men  must  give  up  their 
great  maxim,  Ex  nihilo  nil  fit.     If  it  be  said,  that  "  all 
the  rest  of  matter  is  equally  eternal  as  that  thinking 
atom,"  it  will  be  to  say  any  thing  at  pleasure,  though 
ever  so  absurd :  for  to  suppose  all  matter  eternal,  and 
yet  one  small  particle  in  knowledge  and  power  infinitely 
above  all  the  rest,  is  without  any  the  least  appearance 
of  reason  to  frame  any  hypothesis.     Every  particle  of 
matter,  as  matter,  is  capable  of  all  the  same  figures  and 
motions  of  any  other;  and  I  challenge  any  one,  in  his 
thoughts,  to  add  any  thing  else  to  one  above  another. 

16.  Thirdly,  A  system  of  incogitative  matter  cannot 
be  cogitative. —  Thirdly,  If  then  neither  one  peculiar 
atom  alone  can  be  this  eternal  thinking  Being,  nor  all 
matter,  as  matter,  i.  e.,  every  particle  of  matter,  can  be 


326     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

it;  it  only  remains  that  it  is  some  certain  system  of 
matter  duly  put  together,  that  is  this  thinking  eternal 
Being.  This  is  that  which,  I  imagine,  is  that  notion 
which  men  are  aptest  to  have  of  God,  who  would  have 
him  a  material  being,  as  most  readily  suggested  to  them 
by  the  ordinary  conceit  they  have  of  themselves  and 
other  men,  which  they  take  to  be  material  thinking 
beings.  But  this  imagination,  however  more  natural, 
is  no  less  absurd  than  the  other:  for,  to  suppose  the 
eternal  thinking  Being  to  be  nothing  else  but  a  com- 
position of  particles  of  matter,  each  whereof  is  in- 
cogitative,  is  to  ascribe  all  the  wisdom  and  knowledge 
of  that  eternal  Being  only  to  the  juxtaposition  of  parts ; 
than  which  nothing  can  be  more  absurd.  For,  unthink- 
ing particles  of  matter,  however  put  together,  can  have 
nothing  thereby  added  to  them  but  a  new  relation  of 
position,  which  it  is  impossible  should  give  thought 
and  knowledge  to  them. 

17.  Whether  in  motion,  or  at  rest. —  But  farther; 
this  corporeal  system  either  has  all  its  parts  at  rest, 
or  it  is  a  certain  motion  of  the  parts  wherein  its  think- 
ing consists.  If  it  be  perfectly  at  rest,  it  is  but  one 
lump,  and  so  can  have  no  privileges  above  one  atom. 

If  it  be  the  motion  of  its  parts  on  which  its  think- 
ing depends,  all  the  thoughts  there  must  be  unavoid- 
ably accidental  and  limited,  since  all  the  particles  that 
by  motion  cause  thought,  being  each  of  them  in  itself 
without  any  thought,  cannot  regulate  its  own  motions, 
much  less  be  regulated  by  the  thought  of  the  whole, 
since  that  thought  is  not  the  cause  of  motion,  ( for  then 
it  must  be  antecedent  to  it,  and  so  without  it,)  but  the 
consequence  of  it,  whereby  freedom,  power,  choice,  and 
all  rational  and  wise  thinking  or  acting,  will  be  quite 
taken  away ;  so  that  such  a  thinking  being  will  be  no 


OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  OF  A  GOD.  327 

better  nor  wiser  than  pure  blind  matter,  since  to  resolve 
all  into  the  accidental  unguided  motions  of  blind  mat- 
ter, or  into  thought  depending  on  unguided  motions  of 
blind  matter,  is  the  same  thing;  not  to  mention  the 
narrowness  of  such  thoughts  and  knowledge  that  must 
depend  on  the  motion  of  such  parts.  But  there  needs 
no  enumeration  of  any  more  absurdities  and  impossibil- 
ities in  this  hypothesis  (however  full  of  them  it  be) 
than  that  before  mentioned ;  since,  let  this  thinking  sys- 
tem be  all  or  a  part  of  the  matter  of  the  universe,  it  is 
impossible  that  any  one  particle  should  either  know  its 
own  or  the  motion  of  any  other  particle,  or  the  whole 
know  the  motion  of  every  particular,  and  so  regulate 
its  own  thoughts  or  motions,  or  indeed  have  any 
thought  resulting  from  such  motion. 

18.  Matter  not  co-eternal  with  an  eternal  Mind.— 
Others  would  have  matter  to  be  eternal,  notwithstand- 
ing that  they  allow  an  eternal  cogitative,  immaterial 
being.  This,  though  it  take  not  away  the  being  of  a 
God,  yet,  since  it  denies  one  and  the  first  great  piece 
of  his  workmanship,  the  creation,  let  us  consider  it  a 
little.  Matter  must  be  allowed  eternal ;  why  ?  Because 
you  cannot  conceive  how  it  can  be  made  out  of  nothing : 
why  do  you  not  also  think  yourself  eternal  ?  You  will 
answer,  perhaps,  Because  about  twenty  or  forty  years 
since  you  began  to  be.  But  if  I  ask  you  what  that 
"you"  is,  which  began  then  to  be,  you  can  scarce  tell 
me.  The  matter  whereof  you  are  made  began  not  then 
to  be ;  for  if  it  did  then  it  is  not  eternal ;  but  it  began  to 
be  put  together  in  such  a  fashion  and  frame  as  makes 
up  your  body  ;  but  yet  that  frame  of  particles  is  not  you, 
it  makes  not  that  thinking  thing  you  are;  (for  I  have 
now  to  do  with  one  who  allows  an  eternal,  immaterial, 
thinking  being,  but  would  have  unthinking  matter  eter- 


328     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

nai  too ;)  therefore  when  did  that  thinking  thing  begin 
to  be?  If  it  did  never  begin  to  be,  then  have  you  al- 
ways been  a  thinking  thing  from  eternity :  the  absurdity 
whereof  I  need  not  confute  till  I  meet  with  one  who  is 
so  void  of  understanding  as  to  own  it.  If,  therefore, 
you  can  allow  a  thinking  thing  to  be  made  out  of 
nothing,  (as  all  things  that  are  not  eternal  must  be,) 
why  also  can  you  not  allow  it  possible  for  a  material 
being  to  be  made  out  of  nothing  by  an  equal  power, 
but  that  you  have  the  experience  of  the  one  in  view, 
and  not  of  the  other?  though,  when  well  considered, 
creation  [of  a  spirit  will  be  found  to  require  no  less 
power  than  the  creation  of  matter.  Nay,  possibly,  if 
we  would  emancipate  ourselves  from  vulgar  notions, 
and  raise  our  thoughts,  as  far  as  they  would  reach, 
to  a  closer  contemplation  of  things,  we  might  be  able 
to  aim  at  some  dim  and  seeming  conception  how  mat- 
ter might  at  first  be  made,  and  begin  to  exist,  by  the 
power  of  that  etefnal  first  Being;  but  to  give  begin- 
ning and  being  to  a  spirit  would  be  found  a  more  in- 
conceivable effect  of  omnipotent  power.  But  this  be- 
ing what  would,  perhaps,  lead  us  too  far  from  the 
notions  on  which  the  philosophy  now  in  the  world  is 
built,  it  would  not  be  pardonable  to  deviate  so  far  from 
them,  or  to  inquire  so  far  as  grammar  itself  would 
authorize,  if  the  common  settled  opinion  opposes  it ;  es- 
pecially in  this  place,  where  the  received  doctrine  serves 
well  enough  to  our  present  purpose,  and  leaves  this 
past  doubt,  that,]  the  creation  or  beginning  of  any  one 
[substance]  out  of  nothing  being  once  admitted,  the 
creation  of  all  other,  but  the  Creator  himself,  may,  with 
the  same  ease,  be  supposed. 

19.     But  you  will  say,  "  Is  it  not  impossible  to  admit 
of  the  making  any  thing  out  of  nothing,  since  we  can- 


OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  OF  A  GOD.  329 

not  possibly  conceive  it  ? "  I  answer,  No :  Because 
it  is  not  reasonable  to  deny  the  power  of  an  infinite 
Being  because  we  cannot  comprehend  its  opera- 
tions. We  do  not  deny  other  effects  upon  this  ground, 
because  we  cannot  possibly  conceive  the  manner  of  their 
production.  We  cannot  conceive  how  any  thing  but 
impulse  of  body  can  move  body;  and  yet  that  is  not 
a  reason  sufficient  to  make  us  deny  it  possible,  against 
the  constant  experience  we  have  of  it  in  ourselves, 
in  all  our  voluntary  motions,  which  are  produced  in  us 
only  by  the  free  action  or  thought  of  our  own  minds ; 
and  are  not  nor  can  be  the  effects  of  the  impulse  or 
determination  of  the  motion  of  blind  matter,  in  or  upon 
our  bodies;  for  then  it  could  not  be  in  our  power  or 
choice  to  alter  it.  For  example :  my  right  hand  writes 
whilst  my  left  hand  is  still ;  what  causes  rest  in  one  and 
motion  in  the  other?  Nothing  but  my  will,  a  thought 
of  my  mind  ;  my  thought  only  changing,  the  right  hand 
rests,  and  the  left  hand  moves.  This  is  matter-of-fact 
which  cannot  be  denied:  explain  this,  and  make  it  in- 
telligible, and  then  the  next  step  will  be  to  ^understand 
creation:  [for  the  giving  a  new  determination  to  the 
motion  of  the  animal  spirits  (which  some  make  use  of 
to  explain  voluntary  motion)  clears  not  the  difficulty 
one  jot,  to  alter  the  determination  of  motion  being  in 
this  case  no  easier  nor  less  than  to  give  motion  itself ; 
since  the  new  determination  given  to  the  animal  spirits 
must  be  either  immediately  by  thought,  or  by  some 
other  body  put  in  their  way  by  thought,  which  was  not 
in  their  way  before,  and  so  must  owe  its  motion  to 
thought;  either  of  which  leaves  voluntary  motion  as 
unintelligible  as  it  was  before.]  In  the  mean  time,  it  is 
an  overvaluing  ourselves,  to  reduce  all  to  the  narrow 
measure  of  our  capacities,  and  to  conclude  all  things 


330     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

impossible  to  be  done  whose  manner  of  doing  exceeds 
our  comprehension.  This  is  to  make  our  comprehen- 
sion infinite,  or  God  finite,  when  what  he  can  do  is  lim- 
ited to  what  we  can  conceive  of  it.  If  you  do  not  un- 
derstand the  operations  of  your  own  finite  mind,  that 
thinking  thing  within  you,  do  not  deem  it  strange  that 
you  cannot  comprehend  the  operations  of  that  eternal, 
infinite  Mind  who  made  and  governs  all  things,  and 
whom  the  heaven  of  heavens  cannot  contain. 

CHAPTER  XI. 

OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  OF  THE  EXISTENCE  OF  OTHER 
THINGS. 

1.  It  is  to  be  had  only  by  sensation. —  The  knowl- 
edge of  our  own  being  we  have  by  intuition.     The  ex- 
istence of  a  God  reason  clearly  makes  known  to  us,  as 
has  been  shown. 

The  knowledge  of  the  existence  of  any  other  thing, 
we  can  have  only  by  sensation:  for,  there  being  no 
necessary  connexion  of  real  existence  with  any  idea  a 
man  hath  in  his  memory,  nor  of  any  other  existence 
but  that  of  God  with  the  existence  of  any  particular 
man,  no  particular  man  can  know  the  existence  of  any 
other  being,  but  only  when  by  actual  operating  upon 
him  it  makes  itself  perceived  by  him.  For,  the  having 
the  idea  of  any  thing  in  our  mind  no  more  proves  the 
existence  of  that  thing  than  the  picture  of  a  man  evi- 
dences his  being  in  the  world,  or  the  visions  of  a  dream 
make  thereby  a  true  history. 

2.  Instance  whiteness  of  this  paper. —  It  is  there- 
fore the  actual  receiving  of  ideas  from  without  that 
gives  us  notice  of  the  existence  of  other  things,  and 


OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  OF  OTHER  THINGS.       331 

makes  us  know  that  something  doth  exist  at  that  time 
without  us  which  causes  that  idea  in  us,  though  per- 
haps we  neither  know  nor  consider  how  it  does  it :  for 
it  takes  not  from  the  certainty  of  our  senses,  and  the 
ideas  we  receive  by  them,  that  we  know  not  the  manner 
wherein  they  are  produced ;  v.  g.,  whilst  I  write  this, 
I  have,  by  the  paper  affecting  my  eyes,  that  idea  pro- 
duced in  my  mind  which  whatever  object  causes,  I  call 
"  white ;  "  by  which  I  know  that  that  quality  or  acci- 
dent (i.  e.,  whose  appearance  before  my  eyes  always 
causes  that  idea)  doth  really  exist  and  hath  a  being 
without  me.  And  of  this  the  greatest  assurance  I  can 
possibly  have,  and  to  which  my  faculties  can  attain,  is 
the  testimony  of  my  eyes,  which  are  the  proper  and 
sole  judges  of  this  thing;  whose  testimony  I  have 
reason  to  rely  on  as  so  certain  that  I  can  no  more  doubt, 
whilst  I  write  this,  that  I  see  white  and  black,  and  that 
something  really  exists  that  causes  that  sensation  in 
me,  than  that  I  write  or  move  my  hand;  which  is  a 
certainty  as  great  as  human  nature  is  capable  of  con- 
cerning the  existence  of  any  thing  but  a  man's  self 
alone  and  of  God. 

3.  This,  though  not  so  certain  as  demonstration,  yet 
may  be  called  "  knowledge"  and  proves  the  existence 
of  things  without  us. —  The  notice  we  have  by  our 
senses  of  the  existing  of  things  without  us,  though  it 
be  not  altogether  so  certain  as  our  intuitive  knowledge, 
or  the  deductions  of  our  reason  employed  about  the 
clear  abstract  ideas  of  our  own  minds ;  yet  it  is  an  as- 
surance that  deserves  the  name  of  knowledge.  If  we 
persuade  ourselves  that  our  faculties  act  and  inform 
us  right  concerning  the  existence  of  those  objects  that 
affect  them,  it  cannot  pass  for  an  ill-grounded  confi- 
dence :  for  I  think  nobody  can,  in  earnest,  be  so  seep- 


*32     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

tical  as  to  be  uncertain  of  the  existence  of  those  things 
which  he  sees  and  feels.  At  least,  he  that  can  doubt 
so  far,  (whatever  he  may  have  with  his  own  thoughts,) 
will  never  have  any  controversy  with  me :  since  he  can 
never  be  sure  I  say  any  thing  contrary  to  his  own  opin- 
ion. As  to  myself,  I  think  God  has  given  me  assurance 
enough  of  the  existence  of  things  without  me;  since, 
by  their  different  application,  I  can  produce  in  myself 
both  pleasure  and  pain,  which  is  one  great  concernment 
of  my  present  state.  This  is  certain,  the  confidence 
that  our  faculties  do  not  herein  deceive  us  is  the  great- 
est assurance  we  are  capable  of  concerning  the  exist- 
ence of  material  beings.  For  we  cannot  act  any  thing 
but  by  our  faculties,  nor  talk  of  knowledge  itself  but 
by  the  help  of  those  faculties  which  are  fitted  to  appre- 
hend even  what  knowledge  is.  But,  besides  the  assur- 
ance we  have  from  our  senses  themselves,  that  they  do 
not  err  in  the  information  they  give  us  of  the  existence 
of  things  without  us,  when  they  are  affected  by  them, 
we  are  farther  confirmed  in  this  assurance  by  other 
concurrent  reasons. 

4.  First,  Because  we  cannot  have  them  but  by  the 
inlet  of  the  senses. —  First,  It  is  plain  those  perceptions 
are  produced  in  us  by  exterior  causes  affecting  our 
senses,  because  those  that  want  the  organs  of  any  sense 
never  can  have  the  ideas  belonging  to  that  sense 
produced  in  their  minds.  This  is  too  evident  to  be 
doubted :  and  therefore  we  cannot  but  be  assured  that 
they  come  in  by  the  organs  of  that  sense,  and  no  other 
way.  The  organs  themselves,  it  is  plain,  do  not  pro- 
duce them ;  for  then  the  eyes  of  a  man  in  the  dark 
would  produce  colours,  and  his  nose  smell  roses  in  the 
winter:  but  we  see  nobody  gets  the  relish  of  a  pine- 
apple till  he  goes  to  the  Indies  where  it  is,  and  tastes  it. 


OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  OF  OTHER  THINGS.      333 

5.  Secondly,  Because  an  idea  from  actual  sensation 
and  another  from  memory  are  very  distinct  perceptions. 
—  Secondly,  Because  sometimes  I  find  that  I  cannot 
avoid  the  having  those  ideas  produced  in  my  mind: 
for  though  when  my  eyes  are  shut,  or  windows  fast,  I 
can  at  pleasure  recall  to  my  mind  the  ideas  of  light  or 
the  sun,  which  former  sensations  had  lodged  in  my 
memory ;  so  I  can  at  pleasure  lay  by  that  idea,  and  take 
into  my  view  that  of  the  smell  of  a  rose,  or  taste  of 
sugar.     But  if  I  turn  my  eyes  at  noon  towards  the  sun, 
I  cannot  avoid  the  ideas  which  the  light  or  sun  then 
produces  in  me.     So  that  there  is  a  manifest  difference 
between  the  ideas  laid  up  in  my  memory  (over  which, 
if  they  were  therejmly,  I  should  have  constantly  the 
same  power  to  dispose  of  them,  and  lay  them  by  at 
pleasure),  and  those  which  force  themselves  upon  me 
and  I  cannot  avoid  having.     And  therefore  it  must 
needs  be  some  exterior  cause,  and  the  brisk  acting  of 
some  objects  without  me,  whose  efficacy  I  cannot  re- 
sist, that  produces  those  ideas  in  my  mind,  whether  I 
will  or  no.     Besides,  there  is  nobody  who  doth  not  per- 
ceive the  difference  in  himself  between  contemplating 
the  sun  as  he  hath  the  idea  of  it  in  his  memory,  and 
actually  looking  upon  it:  of  which  two  his  perception 
is  so  distinct,  that  few  of  his  ideas  are  more  distin- 
guishable one  from  another:  and  therefore  he  hath 
certain  knowledge  that  they  are  not  both  memory,  or 
the  actions  of  his  mind  and  fancies  only  within  him; 
but  that  actual  seeing  hath  a  cause  without. 

6.  Thirdly,  Pleasure  or  pain,  which  accompanies 
actual   sensation,   accompanies   not   the   returning   of 
those   ideas  without   the   external   objects. —  Thirdly, 
Add  to  this,  that  many  of  those  ideas  are  produced  in 
us  with  pain,  which  afterwards  we  remember  without 


334     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

the  least  offence.  Thus  the  pain  of  heat  or  cold,  when 
the  idea  of  it  is  revived  in  our  minds,  gives  us  no  dis- 
turbance ;  which,  when  felt,  was  very  troublesome,  and 
is  again  when  actually  repeated :  which  is  occasioned 
by  the  disorder  the  external  object  causes  in  our  bodies 
when  applied  to  them.  And  we  remember  the  pain  of 
hunger,  thirst,  or  the  headache,  without  any  pain  at 
all ;  which  would  either  never  disturb  us,  or  else  con- 
stantly do  it  as  often  as  we  thought  of  it,  were  there 
nothing  more  but  ideas  floating  in  our  minds,  and  ap- 
pearances entertaining  our  fancies,  without  the  real 
existence  of  things  affecting  us  from  abroad.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  pleasure  accompanying  several 
actual  sensations;  and,  though  mathematical  demon- 
stration depends  not  upon  sense,  yet  the  examining 
them  by  diagrams  gives  great  credit  to  the  evidence  of 
our  sight,  and  seems  to  give  it  a  certainty  approaching 
to  that  of  demonstration  itself.  For  it  would  be  very 
strange  that  a  man  should  allow  it  for  an  undeniable 
truth,  that  two  angles  of  a  figure  which  he  measures 
by  lines  and  angles  of  a  diagram,  should  be  bigger  one 
than  the  other,  and  yet  doubt  of  the  existence  of  those 
lines  and  angles  which,  by  looking  on,  he  makes  use 
of  to  measure. that  by. 

7.  Fourthly,  Our  senses  assist  one  another's  testi- 
mony of  the  existence  of  outward  things. —  Fourthly, 
Our  senses,  in  many  cases,  bear  witness  to  the  truth 
of  each  other's  report  concerning  the  existence  of  sensi- 
ble things  without  us.  He  that  sees  a  fire  may,  if  he 
doubt  whether  it  be  any  thing  more  than  a  bare  fancy, 
feel  it  too,  and  be  convinced  by  putting  his  hand  in  it ; 
which  certainly  could  never  be  put  into  such  exquisite 
pain  by  a  bare  idea  or  phantom,  unless  that  the  pain  be 
a  fancy  too:  which  yet  he  cannot,  when  the  burn  is 


OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  OF  OTHER  THINGS.      335 

well,  by  raising  the  idea  of  it,  bring  upon  himself 
again. 

Thus  I  see,  whilst  I  write  this,  I  can  change  the 
appearance  of  the  paper ;  and,  by  designing  the  letters, 
tell  beforehand  what  new  idea  it  shall  exhibit  the  very 
next  moment,  by  barely  drawing  my  pen  over  it ;  which 
will  neither  appear  (let  me  fancy  as  much  as  I  will) 
if  my  hand  stand  still,  or  though  I  move  my  pen,  if  my 
eyes  be  shut ;  nor,  when  those  characters  are  once  made 
on  the  paper,  can  I  choose  afterwards  but  see  them  as 
they  are;  that  is,  have  the  ideas  of  such  letters  as  I 
have  made.  Whence  it  is  manifest  that  they  are  not 
barely  the  sport  and  play  of  my  own  imagination,  when 
I  find  that  the  characters  that  were  made  at  the  pleas- 
ure of  my  own  thoughts  do  not  obey  them;  nor  yet 
cease  to  be,  whenever  I  shall  fancy  it,  but  continue  to 
affect  my  senses  constantly  and  regularly,  according  to 
the  figures  I  made  them.  To  which  if  we  will  add, 
that  the  sight  of  those  shall,  from  another  man,  draw 
such  sounds  as  I  beforehand  design  they  shall  stand 
for,  there  will  be  little  reason  left  to  doubt  that  those 
words  I  write  do  really  exist  without  me,  when  they 
cause  a  long  series  of  regular  sounds  to  affect  my  ears, 
which  could  not  be  the  effect  of  my  imagination,  nor 
could  my  memory  retain  them  in  that  order. 

8.  This  certainty  is  as  great  as  our  condition  needs. 
—  But  yet,  if  after  all  this  any  one  will  be  so  sceptical 
as  to  distrust  his  senses,  and  to  affirm  that  all  we  see 
and  hear,  feel  and  taste,  think  and  do,  during  our  whole 
being,  is  but  the  series  and  deluding  appearances  of  a 
long  dream  whereof  there  is  no  reality,  and  therefore 
will  question  the  existence  of  all  things  or  our  knowl- 
edge of  any  thing ;  I  must  desire  him  to  consider,  that 
if  all  be  a  dream,  then  he  doth  but  dream  that  he  makes 


336     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

the  question ;  and  so  it  is  not  much  matter  that  a  wak- 
ing man  should  answer  him.  But  yet,  if  he  pleases,  he 
may  dream  that  I  make  him  this  answer,  that  the  cer- 
tainty of  things  existing  in  rerum  natura,  when  we 
have  the  testimony  of  our  senses  for  it,  is  not  only  as 
great  as  our  frame  can  attain  to,  but  as  our  condition 
needs.  For,  our  faculties  being  suited  not  to  the  full 
extent  of  being,  nor  to  a  perfect,  clear,  comprehensive 
knowledge  of  things  free  from  all  doubt  and  scruple, 
but  to  the  preservation  of  us,  in  whom  they  are,  and 
accommodated  to  the  use  of  life,  they  serve  to  our  pur- 
pose well  enough,  if  they  will  but  give  us  certain  notice 
of  those  things  which  are  convenient  or  inconvenient 
to  us.  For  he  that  sees  a  candle  burning,  and  hath  ex- 
perimented the  force  of  its  flame  by  putting  his  finger 
in  it,  will  little  doubt  that  this  is  something  existing 
without  him,  which  does  him  harm  and  puts  him  to 
great  pain;  which  is  assurance  enough,  when  no  man 
requires  greater  certainty  to  govern  his  actions  by  than 
what  is  as  certain  as  his  actions  themselves.  And  if 
our  dreamer  pleases  to  try  whether  the  glowing  heat  of 
a  glass  furnace  be  barely  a  wandering  imagination  in 
a  drowsy  man's  fancy,  by  putting  his  hand  into  it,  he 
may,  perhaps,  be  awakened  into  a  certainty,  greater 
than  he  could  wish,  that  it  is  something  more  than  bare 
imagination.  So  that  this  evidence  is  as  great  as  we 
can  desire,  being  as  certain  to  us  as  our  pleasure  or 
pain,  i.  e.,  happiness  or  misery ;  beyond  which  we  have 
no  concernment  either  of  knowing  or  being.  Such  an 
assurance  of  the  existence  of  things  without  us,  is  suf- 
ficient to  direct  us  in  the  attaining  the  good  and  avoid- 
ing the  evil  which  is  caused  by  them,  which  is  the 
important  concernment  we  have  of  being  made  ac- 
quainted with  them. 


OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  OF  OTHER  THINGS.      337 

9.  But  reaches  no  farther  than  actual  sensation. — 
In  fine,  then,  when  our  senses  do  actually  convey  into 
our  understandings  any  idea,  we  cannot  but  be  satis- 
fied that  there  doth  something  at  that  time  really  exist 
without  us  which  doth  affect  our  senses,  and  by  them 
give  notice  of  itself  to  our  apprehensive  faculties,  and 
actually  produce  that  idea  which  we  then  perceive :  and 
we  cannot  so  far  distrust  their  testimony  as  to  doubt 
that  such  collections  of  simple  ideas  as  we  have  ob- 
served by  our  senses  to  be  united  together,  do  really 
exist  together.  But  this  knowledge  extends  as  far  as 
the  present  testimony  of  our  senses,  employed  about 
particular  objects  that  do  then  affect  them,  and  no 
farther.  For  if  I  saw  such  a  collection  of  simple  ideas 
as  is  wont  to  be  called  "  man  "  existing  together  one 
minute  since,  and  am  now  alone;  I  cannot  be  certain 
that  the  same  man  exists  now,  since  there  is  no  neces- 
sary connexion  of  his  existence  a  minute  since  with 
his  existence  now:  by  a  thousand  ways  he  may  cease 
to  be,  since  I  had  the  testimony  of  my  senses  for  his 
existence.  And  if  I  cannot  be  certain  that  the  man  I 
saw  last  to-day  is  now  in  being,  I  can  less  be  certain 
that  he  is  so  who  hath  been  longer  removed  from  my 
senses,  and  I  have  not  seen  since  yesterday,  or  since 
the  last  year;  and  much  less  can  I  be  certain  of  the 
existence  of  men  that  I  never  saw.  And  therefore, 
though  it  be  highly  probable  that  millions  of  men  do 
now  exist,  yet,  whilst  I  am  alone  writing  this,  I  have 
not  that  certainty  of  it  which  we  strictly  call  "  knowl- 
edge ;  "  though  the  great  likelihood  of  it  puts  me  past 
doubt,  and  it  be  reasonable  for  me  to  do  several  things 
upon  the  confidence  that  there  are  men  (and  men  also 
of  my  acquaintance,  with  whom  I  have  to  do)  now  in 
the  world :  but  this  is  but  probability,  not  knowledge. 


338     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

10.  Folly  to  expect  demonstration  in  every  thing. — 
Whereby  yet  we  may  observe  how  foolish  and  vain  a 
thing  it  is  for  a  man  of  a  narrow  knowledge,  who  hav- 
ing reason  given  him  to  judge  of  the  different  evidence 
and  probability  of  things,  and  to  be  swayed  accord- 
ingly; how  vain,  I  say,  it  is  to  expect  demonstration 
and  certainty  in  things  not  capable  of  it,  and  refuse 
assent  to  very  rational  propositions,  and  act  contrary 
to  very  plain  and  clear  truths,  because  they  cannot  be 
made  out  so  evident  as  to  surmount  every  the  least  (I 
will  not  say  reason,  but)   pretence  of  doubting.     He 
that  in  the  ordinary  affairs  of  life  would  admit  of  noth- 
ing but  direct  plain  demonstration,  would  be  sure  oi 
nothing  in  this  world  but  of  perishing  quickly.     The 
wholesomeness  of  his  meat  or  drink  would  not  give  him 
reason  to  venture  on  it :  and  I  would  fain  know  what 
it  is  he  could  do  upon  such  grounds  as  were  capable 
of  no  doubt,  no  objection. 

11.  Past    existence   is    known    by    memory  —  As, 
when  our  senses  are  actually  employed  about  any  ob- 
ject, we  do  know  that  it  does  exist,  so  by  our  memory 
we  may  be  assured  that  heretofore  things  that  affected 
our  senses  have  existed.     And  thus  we  have  knowledge 
of  the  past  existence  of  several  things,  whereof  our 
senses  having  informed  us,  our  memories  still  retain 
the  ideas ;  and  of  this  we  are  past  all  doubt  so  long  as 
we  remember  well.     But  this  knowledge  also  reaches 
no  farther  than  our  senses  have  formerly  assured  us. 
Thus,  seeing  water  at  this  instant,  it  is  an  unquestion- 
able truth  to  me  that  water  doth  exist ;  and  remember- 
ing that  I  saw  it  yesterday,  it  will  also  be  always  true, 
and,  as  long  as  my  memory  retains  it,  always  an  un- 
doubted proposition  to  me,  that  water  did  exist  the  loth 
of  July  1688,  as  it  will  also  be  equally  true  that  a  certain 


OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  OF  OTHER  THINGS.      339 

number  of  very  fine  colours  did  exist,  which  at  the 
same  time  I  saw  upon  a  bubble  of  that  water:  but 
being  now  quite  out  of  sight  both  of  the  water  and 
bubbles  too,  it  is  no  more  certainly  known  to  me  that 
the  water  doth  now  exist  than  that  the  bubbles  or 
colours  therein  do  so;  it  being  no  more  necessary  that 
water  should  exist  to-day  because  it  existed  yesterday, 
than  that  the  colours  or  bubbles  exist  to-day  because 
they  existed  yesterday,  though  it  be  exceedingly  much 
more  probable,  because  water  hath  been  observed  to 
continue  long  in  existence,  but  bubbles  and  the  colours 
on  them  quickly  cease  to  be. 

12.  The  existence  of  spirits  not  knowable. —  What 
ideas  we  have  of  spirits,  and  how  we  come  by  them,  I 
have  'already  shown.  But  though  we  have  those  ideas 
in  our  minds,  and  know  we  have  them  there,  the  hav- 
ing the  ideas  of  spirits  does  not  make  us  know  that  any 
such  things  do  exist  without  us,  or  that  there  are  any 
finite  spirits,  or  any  other  spiritual  beings  but  the  eter- 
nal God.  We  have  ground  from  revelation,  and  sev- 
eral other  reasons,  to  believe  with  assurance  that  there 
are  such  creatures;  but,  our  senses  not  being  able  to 
discover  them,  we  want  the  means  of  knowing  their 
particular  existences.  For  we  can  no  more  know  that 
there  are  finite  spirits  really  existing  by  the  idea  we 
have  of  such  beings  in  our  minds,  than  by  the  ideas 
any  one  has  of  fairies  or  centaurs  he  can  come  to  know 
that  things  answering  those  ideas  do  really  exist. 

And  therefore  concerning  the  existence  of  finite  spir- 
its, as  well  as  several  other  things,  we  must  content 
ourselves  with  the  evidence  of  faith ;  but  universal 
certain  propositions  concerning  this  matter  are  beyond 
our  reach.  For,  however  true  it  may  be,  v.  g.,  that  all 
the  intelligent  spirits  that  God  ever  created  do  still 


340     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

exist,  yet  it  can  never  make  a  part  of  our  certain 
knowledge.  These  and  the  like  propositions  we  may 
assent  to  as  highly  probable,  but  are  not,  I  fear,  in  this 
state  capable  of  knowing.  We  are  not,  then,  to  put 
others  upon  demonstrating,  nor  ourselves  upon  search 
of,  universal  certainty  in  all  those  matters  wherein  we 
are  not  capable  of  any  other  knowledge  but  what  our 
senses  give  us  in  this  or  that  particular. 

13.  Particular  propositions  concerning  existences 
are  knowable. —  By  which  it  appears  that  there  are  two 
sorts  of  propositions,  (i.)  There  is  one  sort  of  prop- 
ositions concerning  the  existence  of  any  thing  answer- 
able to  such  an  idea ;  as  having  the  idea  of  an  elephant, 
phoenix,  motion,  or  an  angel  in  my  mind,  the  first  and 
natural  inquiry  is,  whether  such  a  thing  does  any 
where  exist.  And  this  knowledge  is  only  of  particu- 
lars. No  existence  of  any  thing  without  us,  but  only 
of  God,  can  certainly  be  known  farther  than  our  senses 
inform  us.  (2.)  There  is  another  sort  of  propositions, 
wherein  is  expressed  the  agreement  or  disagreement 
of  our  abstract  ideas,  and  their  dependence  one  on 
another.  Such  propositions  may  be  universal  and  cer- 
tain. So  having  the  idea  of  God  and  myself,  of  fear 
and  obedience,  I  cannot  but  be  sure  that  God  is  to  be 
feared  and  obeyed  by  me:  and  this  proposition  will  be 
certain  concerning  man  in  general,  if  I  have  made  an 
abstract  idea  of  such  a  species,  whereof  I  am  one  par- 
ticular. But  yet  this  proposition,  how  certain  soever, 
that  men  ought  to  fear  and  obey  God,  proves  not  to 
me  the  existence  of  men  in  the  world,  but  will  be  true 
of  all  such  creatures  whenever  they  do  exist:  which 
certainty  of  such  general  propositions  depends  on  the 
agreement  or  disagreement  is  to  be  discovered  in  those 
abstract  ideas. 


OF  OUR  KNOWLEDGE  OF  OTHER  THINGS.      341 

14.  And  general  propositions  concerning  abstract 
ideas. —  In  the  former  case,  our  knowledge  is  the  con- 
sequence of  the  existence  of  things  producing  ideas  in 
our  minds  by  our  senses:  in  the  latter,  knowledge  is 
the  consequence  of  the  ideas  (be  they  what  they  will) 
that  are  in  our  minds,  producing  their  general  certain 
propositions.  Many  of  these  are  called  ceternce  veri- 
tates,  and  all  of  them  indeed  are  so;  not  from  being 
written  all  or  any  of  them  in  the  minds  of  all  men,  or 
that  they  were  any  of  them  propositions  in  any  one's 
mind  till  he,  having  got  the  abstract  ideas,  joined  or 
separated  them  by  affirmation  or  negation.  But 
wheresoever  we  can  suppose  such  a  creature  as  man 
is,  endowed  with  such  faculties,  and  thereby  furnished 
with  such  ideas,  as  we  have,  we  must  conclude  he  must 
needs,  when  he  applies  his  thoughts  to  the  considera- 
tion of  his  ideas,  know  the  truth  of  certain  propositions 
that  will  arise  from  the  agreement  or  disagreement 
which  he  will  perceive  in  his  own  ideas.  Such  propo- 
sitions are  therefore  called  "  eternal  truths,"  not  be- 
cause they  are  eternal  propositions  actually  formed, 
and  antecedent  to  the  understanding  that  at  any 
time  makes  them;  nor  because  they  are  imprinted 
on  the  mind  from  any  patterns  that  are  any 
where  of  them  out  of  the  mind,  and  existed  before; 
but  because,  being  once  made  about  abstract  ideas 
so  as  to  be  true,  they  will,  whenever  they  can  be 
supposed  to  be  made  again  at  any  time  past  or  to  come, 
by  a  mind  having  those  ideas,  always  actually  be  true. 
For,  names  being  supposed  to  stand  perpetually  for 
the  same  ideas,  and  the  same  ideas  having  immutably 
the  same  habitudes  one  to  another,  propositions  con- 


342     CONCERNING  HUMAN  UNDERSTANDING. 

earning  any  abstract  ideas  that  are  once  true  must 
xieeds  be  eternal  verities. 


INDEX. 


Abstract  ideas.     See  Ideas. 
Abstraction,  85,   91. 
Abstruse  ideas.     See  Ideas. 
Accident,   194,  207. 
Action,   129,   190,  191. 
Actions,    184;    Voluntary,    174. 

See  also  Mind. 

Actual  knowledge.    See  Knowledge. 
Agreement  of  ideas,  267,  299,  313. 

See  also  Knowledge. 
Alteration,  233. 
Angels,   79,  206. 
Anger,  125,  155. 
Animal,  243;   Identity  of,  241.  See 

also  Brutes. 

Animal  spirits,  51,  54,  59,  73.  3*9- 
Archetypes,  301,  303,  306. 
Attention,   29,   73,    119,    120.     See 

also  Memory. 
Aversion,   155. 

Bad,  176. 

Beast,  308. 

Beings,  but  two  sorts,  320. 

Birds,   have  memory,   79. 

Blood,  202. 

Bodies  and  spirits,  210  ff.,  217. 

Body,  196,  208,  210,  215,  217,  218, 
253- 

Boyle,  Robert,    13. 

Brain,  36,  54. 

Brutes,  have  memory,  79;  compare 
ideas  to  some  extent,  83 ;  com- 
pound ideas  but  little,  84;  do 
not  abstract,  85;  have  reason, 
86. 

Capacities,   Extent  of,   20-22. 
Cartesians,  250. 


Cause,  232,  233;  Privative,  50  ff.; 
Cause  and  effect,  vi,  232  ff. 

Certainty,  303,  313;  depends  on 
intuition,  274. 

Changelings,  308  ff. 

Christian,  25*. 

Clearness,  prevents  confusion  of 
ideas,  82. 

Cogitative  beings,  320  ff. 

Colors,   36;    Modes  of,    115. 

Comparing  ideas,   83,   225,   237. 

Complex  ideas,  vi.    See  also  Ideas. 

Compounding  ideas,  83. 

Comprehension :      See    Knowledge. 

Compulsion,   136. 

Consciousness,  247  ff. ;  makes  per- 
sonal identity,  33,  247,  251,  254, 
256  ff. ;  makes  self,  247  ff.,  255, 
259  ff. ;  necessary  to  thinking, 
246;  object  of  reward  and  pun- 
ishment, 255. 

Contemplation,    72,    118. 

Creation,    233. 

Delight,   45,    125. 

Demonstration,  276,  285,  303; 
each  step  must  have  intuitive 
evidence,  278;  not  always  to  be 
expected,  338;  not  limited  to 
quantity,  279  ff. ;  not  so  clear 
as  intuitive  knowledge,  273,  276, 
277;  preceded  by  doubt,  277. 

Demonstrative  knowledge.  See 
Knowledge. 

Desire,  123,  149;  confounded  with 
will,  147,  155;  is  uneasiness, 
123,  149,  155,  187;  misled  by 
wrong  judgment,  174;  moved 
only  by  happiness,  157;  Object 


344 


INDEX. 


of,  176;  raised  by  due  conside- 
ration, 162;  Suspension  of,  163, 
1 88. 

Despair,    124. 

Discerning,  vi,  80. 

Diversity,  vi,  237  ff.,  268,  291. 

Divisibility  of  matter,  53;  incom- 
prehensible, 218. 

Doubt,   315. 

Dreaming,    119,    121. 

Duration,  vi. 

Duration,  infinite,  99,  104,  1 08,  112. 

Ecstasy,  119. 

Effect,   232,   233. 

Envy,   125,   155. 

Essay  of  Human  Understanding, 
design  of,  8,  12,  17;  Editions, 
iii,  xi;  Method,  18;  Occasion,  9, 

22. 

Eternal  Being,  317  ff. ;  most  know- 
ing. 3'7;  most  powerful,  317; 
not  material,  324  ff.  See  also 
God. 

Eternal  verities,  341. 

Eternal  wisdom,  323. 

Eternity.     See  Duration. 

Evil,    122,   158. 

Existence,  vii,  298,  314  ff. ;  co- 
existence, 269,  291,  295;  Idea 
of,  48;  Our  existence  known 
intuitively,  298,  314,  330;  God's 
existence  known  by  demonstra- 
tion, 298,  314;  Existence  of 
other  things  known  by  our 
senses,  298,  314,  330  ff.;  Past 
existence  known  only  by  mem- 
ory, 338. 

Experience,  26,  89,  216,  297. 

Extension,  of  body  and  space  dis- 
tinguished, 42;  of  body,  incom- 
prehensible, 211  ff.;  Relations 
of,  235. 

Faculties   of    the    mind,    44,    140; 

are  powers,  131. 
Faculty,  138,  140. 
Faith,  vii,  339;  different  from 

knowledge,  339. 
Fear,   124,   153. 
Figure,  208. 


Finite,  96;  Idea  of,  97;  mode  of 
quantity,  96.  See  also  Infinite. 

Free,  166,  167;  how  far  man  is 
free,  132,  141,  189;  in  respect 
of  willing,  man  not  free,  136, 
142. 

Freedom,  belongs  to  agents,  133, 
136.  '37;  wherein  it  consists, 
138,  145,  165.  See  also  Lib- 
erty. 

Free  will,  136,  163. 

Future,  The,  176  ff. 

General  ideas.    See  Ideas. 

Generation,  233. 

God,  315  ff.;  Attributes  of,  96, 
220,  317,  323;  Clear  proof  of 
His  existence  is  possible,  315; 
Knowledge  of  His  existence 
more  certain  than  of  anything 
else,  318;  Idea  of,  219  ff.;  How 
we  come  by  our  idea  of  God, 
318;  Our  idea  of  Him,  not  the 
sole  proof  of  His  existence,  319; 
incapable  of  motion  because  in- 
finite spirit,  210;  Omniscience 
of,  78.  See  also  Cogitative  Be- 
ing, Eternal  Being. 

Good,  122,  158;  Good  and  evil, 
122,  174,  176;  Greatest  good, 
167;  Greatest  good  not  desired, 
158  ff.;  Greatest  positive  good 
determines  not  the  will,  150, 
154,  187;  works  on  will  by  de- 
sire, 149,  162. 

Habit,  69,  184. 

Habitual  knowledge.  See  Knowl- 
edge. 

Hair,  202. 

Happiness,  152,  157  ff.,  160,  166 
ff.,  170,  175,  177,  182,  187;  Fu- 
ture, 176,  1 86. 

Hardness,   40,  41. 

Hatred,    123. 

Heat  and  cold,  59. 

Hope,  124. 

Huygenius,  Christiaan,   13. 

Ideas,  v,  vi,  25  ff. ;  Definition  of, 
23,  52,  73;  Source  of  (see  also 


INDEX. 


345 


Sensation    and  Reflection),  25  ff., 

9O,     126,     I3Ot     192,    219,    221,    222, 

231;  Abstract,  85,  94;  Abstruse, 
94;  Collective,  223,  224;  Com- 
plex, 90  ff.,  103  ff.,  301;  General, 
85,  91;  Original,  192;  Positive, 
50  ff.;  Simple,  33  ff,  49,  88,  91, 
92,  95,  121,  218,  223,  230,  231, 
292,  300;  fade  in  the  memory, 
74;  not  always  resemblances, 
52.  See  also  Existence,  Finite, 
God,  Infinite,  Infinity,  Motion, 
Passions,  Power,  Qualities,  Re- 
flection, Relation,  Sensation, 
Solidity,  Space,  Spirits,  Sub- 
stance, Succession,  Unity. 

Identity,  vi,  237  ff.,  268,  291;  of 
animals,  241;  of  man,  242,  257; 
of  a  plant,  241 ;  of  substance, 
238;  Knowledge  of,  268,  291; 
made  by  continued  existence, 
264;  not  comprehended  by  unity 
of  substance,  243;  personal 
identity  (246  ff.)  depends  upon 
consciousness,  33,  247  ff.,  254, 
256  ff. 

Idiots,  87. 

Ignorance,    181. 

Ill,  why  chosen,  171.  See  also 
Evil. 

Immensity,   104. 

Immortality,  309  ff. 

Inadvertency,    181. 

Incogitative  beings,   320,  325. 

Incompatibility    to    co-existence, 
295- 

Individuationis  principium,  239. 
See  Identity. 

Infinite,  96;  divisibility,  104;  du- 
ration, 99;  Idea  of,  not  appli- 
cable to  other  ideas  as  well  as 
quantity,  99;  Idea  of,  very  ob- 
scure, 102;  difference  between 
idea  of  infinity  of  space  or 
number  and  idea  of  a  space  or 
a  number  infinite,  100;  number 
affords  us  clearest  idea  of  in- 
finite, 103;  No  positive  idea  of, 
105  ff.,  113;  What  positive,  what 
nrgative  in  our  idea  of,  106  ff., 
no;  Infinite  space,  97  ff.,  101. 


Infinity,  vi,  95  ff. ;  applied  to 
God,  96;  How  we  come  by  the 
Idea  of,  97,  100;  Ideas  of,  arise 
from  sensation  and  reflection, 
113;  of  space,  number  and  du- 
ration, 96,  101  ff. 

Intension,    119. 

Intuitive  knowledge.  See  Knowl- 
edge. 

Invention,  78. 

Involuntary,    131,    134. 

Joy,  124,  156. 

Judgment,  vii,  67  ff.,  81,  181;  of 
good  and  evil,  174;  Wrong,  175 
ff. ;  Causes  of  wrong  judgment, 
179,  181. 

Judgment,   Day  of,   259,  263. 

Justice,  305. 

Knowledge,  vii,  267  ff.;  Agreement 
or  disagreement  of  ideas,  267 
ff.,  299,  313;  fourfold,  267;  of 
identity  or  diversity,  268,  291; 
of  relation,  268;  of  co-existence, 
268,  269,  291,  295;  of  real  ex- 
istence, 268,  269,  298,  314  ff. ; 
Actual,  270;  Demonstrative,  275 
ff.,  285,  298;  Habitual,  271  ff.; 
Intuitive,  274,  277,  278,  285, 
291,  298,  314,  330;  Mathemat- 
ical, 302;  moral,  302,  304;  Sen- 
sitive, 282,  286,  298;  of  general 
truths,  300;  of  substance,  291, 
307;  Beginning  and  progress, 
89;  Extent  of,  19,  21,  284  ff., 
340;  Reality  of,  298  ff. ;  not  al- 
ways clear  when  ideas  are  so, 
284;  intuitive  of  our  own  exist- 
ence, 298,  314,  330;  demonstra- 
tive of  the  existence  of  God, 
298,  314;  sensitive  of  the  exist- 
ence of  other  things,  298,  314, 
330  ff. 

Language,  vi;  Abuse  of,   13. 

Liberty,  132  ff.,  137,  163,  166,  171, 
182,  187,  189;  belongs  not  to 
the  will,  136,  140  ff.,  but  to 
man,  141;  Foundation  of,  167; 
To  be  determined  by  judgment, 


346 


INDEX. 


no  restraint  of  liberty,   164.  See 
also  Freedom. 
Love,   122. 

Madmen,  87. 
Madness,  88. 
Making,  233. 

Man,  243,  246,  264,  308;  not  pro- 
duct   of   ignorance    and    chance, 
318. 
Mathematical    knowledge.       See 

Knowledge. 

Mathematics,  273,  279. 
Matter,     207,     216,     322;     cannot 
produce    motion,    32;    Its    cohe- 
sion   and    divisibility    incompre-  ' 
hensible,   211    ff.,   218;   not  eter- 
nal, 322  ff.,  327  ff. 
Maurice,  Prince,  244.  -, 
Meliboeus,   264. 

Memory,  73,  273,  333,  338;  De- 
fects of,  77;  in  brutes,  79;  »n 
remembering,  mind  is  often  ac- 
tive, 76;  repetition,  76. 
Mind,  208,  267;  can  neither  make 
nor  destroy  ideas,  34;  deter- 
mines the  will,  146;  has  power 
to  revive  perceptions,  73,  76; 
its  actions,  44.  69,  91,  131;  Ope- 
rations of  the,  a  source  of  ideas, 
26  ff. 
Misery,  157.  158,  160;  Future, 

176,  186. 

Modes,  vi,  vii,  92;  Simple,  93,  95. 
116;  mixed,  93;  of  colours,  115; 
of  motion,  114,  115;  of  plea- 
sure and  pain,  121;  of  sounds, 
115;  of  tastes,  115;  of  thinking, 
itt. 

Molineaux,  William,  quoted,   67  ff. 
Monsters,  311   ff. 

Moral  knowledge.  See  Knowl- 
edge. 

Morality,    determines    choice,    185. 

Motion,    215;    Communication    of, 

215;      Idea     of,    40,     129,    209; 

modes   of,    114,    us;    of   spirits, 

209;  Voluntary,  2:3,  329. 

Motivity,  208,  215. 

Names,  307;  111  use  of,  264,  305; 
Moral,  305. 


Naming  of  ideas,  43,  84,  116  ff.; 
of  modes,  116. 

Necessity,    132,    136. 

Nestor,   252. 

Newton,   Sir  Isaac,   13,  273. 

Nothing,  cannot  produce  real  be- 
ing, 316. 

Number,  vi,  103;  affords  clearest 
idea  of  infinity,  103  ff. ;  Infinity 
of,  101  ff. 

Opal,  295. 
Operations,  27. 

Organs,  332;  suited  to  our  state, 
202  ff. 

Pain,    45,    55,    73,    125.    179,    3341 

its  use,  46  ff.,  74. 
Parrot,  244,  245. 
Pascal,    Blaise,   78. 
Passions,    122  ff.,   156;  government 
of,    168;    Ideas    of,    arise    from 
sensation  and  reflection,    126. 
Perception,  vi,  44,  64  ff.,  332;  be- 
longs   to    all    animals,    70;    Con- 
stitutes  difference   between   ani- 
mals   and    inferior    beings,    70; 
impression    made    on    the    mind, 
64;   in  perception,   mind   is  pas- 
sive,   64;     of    three    sorts,     131; 
inlet     of     knowledge,    72,    332; 
shows  goodness  of  Maker,  71. 
Person,    246,    257,    262;    conscious- 
ness   makes    same    person,    262. 
See  also  Personal  identity,  Self. 
Personal     identity,       Reward    and 
punishment     founded     on,     251, 
255,    263.      See   also    Identity. 
Philosophy,    13,    140,   288,  296. 
Place,  Relations  of,  235. 
Plato,   259. 
Platonist,    252. 
Pleasure;  45  ff.,  73.   I25.   179.  334! 

Use  of,  46. 
Pleasure  and  pain,  vi,  45,  48,  158, 

176  ff.;   Modes  of,    121   ff. 
Positive  ideas.     See  Ideas. 
Power,  vi,  48,   127  ff. ;  Active  and 
passive,     128,    191,    216,    296;    a 
great  part  of  our  ideas  of  sub- 
stances,   198;      Clearest  idea  of, 


INDEX. 


347 


derived  from  spirit,  129;  do  not 
operate  on  each  other,  139;  in- 
cludes relation,  128;  of  the 
mind,  73,  9:,  92,  129,  137;  re- 
ceived from  sensation  and  re- 
flection, 48. 

Powers,  61,  139,  199,  201,  223; 
Knowledge  of,  296.  See  also 
Qualities. 

Present,   The,    177  ff. 

Principium    individuationis,     239. 
See  Identity. 

Principles,  v;   not  innate,  66. 

Privative  causes.     See  Cause. 

Proofs,   276. 

Propositions,  273,  340;  Particular, 
340;  Universal,  340. 

Punishment,  172,  185;  and  reward, 
follow  consciousness,  251,  255, 
263;  of  unconscious  drunkard, 
258. 

Pursuits,  Variety  of,   170. 

Pythagorean,  252. 

Qualities,  53 ;  Primary,  53,  60, 
200,  202,  293  ff. ;  How  primary 
qualities  produce  ideas,  54; 
Ideas  of  primary  qualities  re- 
semblances, 56  ff. ;  Secondary, 
54,  61,  63,  200,  202,  292,  293; 
How  secondary  qualities  pro- 
duce ideas,  55;  Ideas  of  sec- 
ondary qualities  not  resem- 
blances, 56  ff.,  61;  of  sub- 
stances, 53,  200  ff. ;  the  terms 
"idea  of  quality"  and  "quality" 
sometimes  confused,  53. 

Reality  of  knowledge.  See  Knowl- 
edge. 

Reason,  vii,   81,    182. 

Reasoning,  276. 

Recollection,    118. 

Reflection,  27,  29,  44,  219;  source 
of  ideas,  25,  26  ff,  36,  126,  129, 

*33>      192,     2l6,     221,      222.        See 

Sensation. 

Relation,  vi,  94,  225  ff. ;  All  ter- 
minate in  simple  ideas,  230;  All 
things  capable  of,  228;  always 
between  two  things,  228 ;  Change 
of  relation  may  be  without 


change  of  subject,  227;  different 
from  things  related,  227 ;  Ideas 
of,  clearer  often  than  subjects 
related,  229;  without  correlative 
terms,  not  easily  perceived,  226; 
of  cause  and  effect,  232  ff. ;  of 
identity  and  diversity,  237  ff. ; 
of  place  and  extension,  235;  of 
time,  234.  See  also  Knowledge. 

Relative  terms,  227,  231,  236. 

Remembrance,   118,  272. 

Repetition.     See  Memory. 

Restraint,    136. 

Resurrection,   253. 

Retention,  vl,  72  ff. 

Reverie,    118. 

Rewards.     See  Punishment. 

Sagacity,   276. 

Same,  243,  254. 

Sand,   202. 

Sceptical,  no  one  so  sceptical  as 
to  deny  his  own  existence,  315, 
316. 

Self,  247,  255,  258,  261.  See  also 
Person,  Personal  identity. 

Sensation,  51,  56  ff.,  67,  118,  207, 
283.  33°;  source  of  ideas,  25, 
26  ff.,  36,  113,  126,  130,  192, 
216,  219,  221,  222,  333.  See 
also  Reflection. 

Senses,  26,  35  ff.,  331,  334;  suited 
to  our  state,  71,  202;  Use  of,  74. 

Sensitive  knowledge.  See  Knowl- 
edge. 

Shame,   126,   155. 

Simple  ideas,  v.     See  Ideas. 

Sleep,   119,   120. 

Smell,   37. 

Socrates,  33,  252,  256,  238. 

Soft,  41. 

Solidity,  38  ff.,  219;  distinct  from 
hardness,  40;  distinct  from 
space,  39;  fills  space,  39;  insep- 
arable from  body,  39;  Impulse, 
resistance  and  protrusion  de- 
pend upon  it,  42;  Idea  of,  re- 
ceived from  touch,  38;  What  it 
U  43- 

Something  from  eternity,  330. 

Sorrow,    124. 


348 


INDEX. 


Soul,  209,  210,  215;  and  body, 
210;  does  not  always  think,  31 
ff. ;  does  not  alone  make  the 
man,  242,  253;  Immateriality  of, 
252,  263,  289;  Our  ignorance  of, 
263,  289,  290.*  See  also  Spirits. 

Sound,   115;  Modes  of,   115. 

Space,  vi,  39;  Idea  of,  97;  In- 
finite, 97  ff.,  10 1,  104,  no  ff. 

Species,   313. 

Spirit,   196,   197,  208;  pure,  216. 

Spirits,  205,  216;  capable  of  mo- 
tion, 209,  218;  Idea  of,  207; 
Knowledge  of,  297;  Existence 
of,  not  knowable,  339;  our  ig- 
norance of,  217,  221,  297.  See 
also  Mind,  Person,  Soul. 

Study,  119. 

Stupidity,  77. 

Substance,  vi,  vii,  92  ff. ;  aggre- 
gate of  single  ideas,  93,  194, 
196,  197  ff.,  206,  222,  291,  306; 
Complex  idea  of,  193,  196,  206, 
223>  3°7;  Corporeal,  196,  200; 
Immaterial,  207  (see  Mind, 
Soul,  Spirits);  identity  of,  238; 
Knowledge  of,  291,  307;  No 
distinct  idea  of,  93,  194,  196, 
207,  208,  216,  217,  222;  Three 
kinds  of,  238. 

Substratum,  194,  197,  198,  222, 
223. 

Succession,   109;  Idea  of,  49. 

Summum  bonum,   167,   170. 

Suspension  of  desire,  163,  166  ff., 
169,  172. 

Sydenham,  Thomas,   13. 


Tastes,  37,  82,  170;  modes  of,  115. 

Thersites,   252    ff. 

Things  without  us,  301 ;  Existence 

of,   331    ff.,   336;   Knowledge  of, 

330  ff.;  Perception  of,  282  ff. 
Thinking,  vi,  25,  44,  64,  129,  213; 

an   operation   of   the   soul,    120; 

Modes  of,  118  ff.  See  also  SouL 
Time,  Relations  of,  234. 
Touch,  37. 
Tully,  quoted,  318. 

Understanding,  7,  17,  131,  133, 
182;  compared  to  a  dark  room, 
90;  Will  and  understanding  two 
powers,  130. 

Uneasiness,  45,  123,  125;  Causes 
of,  173  ff. ;  determines  will,  123, 
148  ff.,  156,  159,  161,  162,  187. 

Unity,  Idea  of,  48. 

Universals,  85. 


Vegetables,  70;   Identity  of,  240. 
Volition,    131,    136,    146,   147,      <"» 

also  Will. 
Voluntary,    131,    134. 


See 


Will,  44,  131,  133,  137  ff.,  140, 
142,  156,  187;  confounded  with 
desire,  147,  149  ff. ;  how  deter- 
mined, 144,  146,  148  ff.,  156, 
159,  162,  187;  Object  of,  157. 
See  also  Volition. 

Wit.  8 1. 

Words,  vi,  vii,  313;  Abuse  of  13; 
relative,  231,  237;  Use  of,  85. 


*  The  term  "soul"  often  used  interchangeably  with  "spirit,"  e.  g. 
209  and  297. 


f 


1 


UN?/.  OF  CAUf.  ./,  LOS  ANGELES 


lilfTiirt 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


\  4  J996 


fy'f 


RET     DEC  12  H 


F(%, 


aafc 


Ut/7 


Wty 


CX3  K 

^  ^        •  •  i          i^  -V"JS = 

i^=D»)l  3 

pa         =5       -V      V  o      u- 

.£•    *T^<J  e. 


^:lOS-ANCEl£j> 
^ 


^l-UBRARY 


